


Two Steps Back

by Five_seas



Category: Skip Beat!
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 16:30:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 71,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20678459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Five_seas/pseuds/Five_seas
Summary: Ren's strange behavior causes Kyoko to re-examine some things about their relationship, and her own goals. A call from the Fuwa family gives her a chance to distance herself a bit from him, and she takes it. Set directly after chapter 188.I locked myself out of my Fanfiction.net account. I'd say pity me, but I had it coming - I finished a Masters and a PhD in the time it took me to get this fic done. You can read the original, typos and all, from the link in my profile.Anyway, standard disclaimers, etc.I don't own Skip Beat! Or any of the other books/works referenced here. This is a work of fan fiction only.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! Or any of the other books/works referenced here. This is a work of fan fiction only.
> 
> Takes place after chapter 188.
> 
> Obviously it takes some liberties with the source material.

It started with a call.

The number was unscreened, and Kyoko's first instinct is to ignore it. The last one she picked up, after all, was from that idiot Shotarou, and she had no interest of bringing her mood down further. She still had to study for that exam they had, and then run to Daruma-ya to take the evening shift – there was just no time to be angry at that idiot.

But then she took a closer look at it, and saw that it wasn't even from the Tokyo area. In fact… the ID code was from Kyoto.

She hesitated, then redialed.

All of this took less than a minute. She was in school, loitering after the classes let out in the hope of catching the math teacher and asking him about the lessons the test would cover. She had no idea of knowing that not one, not two, but three men were waiting for her to come out.

*

Yashiro Yukihito threw his charge a worried look as Ren took the third wrong turn in the day, bringing them near the school. They still had an hour until they had to be anywhere, but there was just so many diversions that he could chalk up on oversight.

"I'm really sorry, Yashiro-san," Ren said. "I have no idea what's gotten in me today."

Oh, but I do, Yashiro thought, you're hoping that you would catch sight of Kyoko-chan as she leaves, so you would talk to her.

Then, of course, Kyoko-chan would be Kyoko-chan, which is to say, incredibly formal, and they would banter a bit while Ren blocked the other cars. In the end, he would suggest giving her a lift to wherever she needed to go, since it would just so happen to be on their way, and Ren would have enough time to grill her about that email she sent Kijima.

It was odd, Yashiro thought, that his charge would be so transparent about some things and yet hide others so well.

"I wonder, shouldn't Kyoko-chan's school be letting out right now?" he supplied. "I can see some students coming out now…"

"Yes, aren't they?" Ren said, brightening, as if he hadn't been mulling over the same thing all day.

"Picking her up from school… you two really are getting all lovey-dovey lately," Yashiro said, wondering if his sarcasm was translating. In all honesty, Ren's mood had been foul since lunch. If he had to be honest, it would have been for the best if he didn't go anywhere near Kyoko right now, and if he had a snowball's chance in hell in getting through, he would have said so. 

But Yashiro and Ren's professional relationship operated on the assumption that Ren was good at hiding his problems, and that his manager was stupid enough not to see right through him.

Even now, his client didn't miss a beat in giving his own line.

"Please don't say such things, Yashiro-san. If others heard you, they'd think…"

But Yashiro didn't get to hear what others might think, because they had reached the front of the building, and just in time to see a furious Kyoko charge out. Ren immediately slowed and lowered his window, but she didn't seem to notice him. She was focused on the gates, and the person standing there.

Later, when he learned the full details, Yashiro would think about how it was all a matter of really bad timing. If Ren had been driving slower, or Kyoko – walked faster, they would have missed each other completely, and the mess that followed would never have happened.

*

But Kyoko had been held back in school, and when she left, there was the extra roadblock of Fuwa Sho to overcome.

Though she didn't see it as a roadblock.

Sho, who had been looking out especially for her, extracted himself from the grasp of Mimori and turned to the furious redhead. "Well, well. Long time, no see."

Kyoko didn't note his peculiar tone, or, if she did, she completely ignored it. Her phone was in her hand, still open, and she was shaking with the effort to suppress her furies.

"You idiot," she said, without preamble. "I've got half a mind to slap you silly."

Sho blinked, taken aback. He'd come specifically to rile her up, but hadn't expected that she would already be angry. He only hesitated for a moment.

"Oh? That's a bit of a revelation. I thought you already had just half a mind."

Mimori opened her mouth to swoon, but then she noticed the look on Kyoko's face. Then she saw the one on Sho's. The air between the two seemed like it was supercharged, and if lightning had struck from the clear sky, she wouldn't have been surprised.

"I'll… just leave you two alone," she muttered, feeling the familiar fights starting to brew.

Ren didn't. He couldn't stop the car, so he was forced to pass the two before Kyoko even opened her mouth, and take a loop around the school, looking for a parking space.

And there were none.

*

"Are you calling me stupid? You really have some nerve, coming here to insult me," Kyoko said.

"I call them how I see them. You should be thankful I'm not calling you worse." Sho looked at her up and down. "Well, this is unexpected. I thought if you let others dress you up, you'd at least learn how to do your own hair like you ought."

Kyoko panicked. Others dress her up? Did he find out somehow about the Cain-and-Setsu gig? But Tsuruga-san had only bought her clothes once – how could he know? Then she remembered why she had been pissed off to begin with.

"Image is more of your thing, isn't it? You're so focused on looking cool that you completely disregard those that were supposed to be dear to you."

"Oh, that's rich. Stop acting already – we all know about your new boyfriend, so you don't have to play hurt anymore."

That completely threw her off the loop. "What?"

"Come on! Why play dumb? You landed the great actor Kijima as a boyfriend, after all. You should be gloating freely."

"What are you talking about? Kijima-san isn't my boyfriend." She was more confused now than angry. Little by little, she got more aware of her surroundings, and tried to keep her tone in check. "If you're referring to the Dark Moon party, that was because he wanted to do something nice on a whim. It had nothing to do with me."

"Right. And if you believe that, I have a really nice tower I'd like to sell you," Sho snapped. "Men don't just buy you dresses and makeovers for nothing. That guy will expect payment, one way or another."

Kyoko felt her cheeks burn up with anger and shame. That was the second time someone said something like that to her, and if the idea that Tsuruga Ren and Fuwa Sho shared an opinion on something wasn't strange enough, the fact that he had come all the way here to tell her this had her reeling.

"Even if Kijima-san was my boyfriend, which he is not, it would still not be any of your business," she said. "And no, you egomaniac, I wasn't talking about what you did to me."

"Oh, really? And what, pray, have I done lately to piss you off?"

"How long has it been since you spoke to your parents?"

Sho froze.

"What?"

She flipped her phone open and showed him her contact list. The number right on top was as familiar to him as his own.

"They called you," he said, warily.

"They couldn't get a hold of you," she said. "They wanted to hear your voice, but you'd stopped taking their calls."

Sho pursed his lips. "They had no business badgering you. You should have told them so."

"They practically raised me, Sho," she said. "I can't just... just... blow them off. Why don't you talk to them?"

"That's none of your business, and you have bigger things to worry about," he said. "If you're not careful, people will start to say things about you."

Again with that, she thought. It was exactly like the stuff Tsuruga-san had told her, about protecting her image and the image of LME. The only difference was that Sho wasn't her sempai, and she told him so.

"I might not be your sempai, but we grew up together," he said, lowering his voice several octaves, and forcing her to lean in to hear. "You're still my responsibility, even if you go off acting stupidly."

She stared at him, part in shock and part in disbelief. His responsibility? Really?

"You're a young, single girl. You have to pay attention to the company you're keeping," he said. "If you really want to knock me off where I stand, you better do that."

She fumed. "Don't give me advice on how to act. And stop calling me! I have better things to do that go through your obsessive voice messaging."

Before he could answer, she thrust a piece of paper with his parents' number on it. "Here! In case you lost it!" she said, turned on her heel, and started walking away.

*

Her exit would have been much more impressive, however, if she had managed to go down the street without bumping into Ren and Yashiro.

"Mogami-san, what a surprise," Ren said, flashing her a smile. "Are your classes over?"

"Yes," she said, after bowing quickly. "We just let out."

"I see. I hope your day was productive, you seemed in such a hurry to make it on time," Ren said. "Are you on your way somewhere? Yashiro-san and I were just stopping to pick something up – we can give you a lift."

Kyoko opened her mouth to say yes, but then she felt Sho's eyes boring into the back of her head. His words came back to her – that men don't do things for you unless they have an ulterior motive, and then she remembered how Tsuruga-san her said the same things. It wouldn't have bothered her, except for the fact that Sho had been less than delicate in his allegations. The way he put it, he made it look like she had sold herself for those clothes and make up.

"No, that's fine, Tsuruga-san," she said, bowing again. "I just needed to have a word with Fuwa-kun over there on a family matter – I'll be staying in the school for a little longer. We have a test coming up, and I really need to study."

"Oh," Ren said, barely covering up his disappointment. "Well, that's very conscious of you. Work hard, then."

"Thank you," she said, and hesitated. She felt like she had a thousand things she wanted to tell him, yet she had no way of saying them without sounding presumptuous. Ren, on his part, didn't want to leave her, not yet. It was left to Yashiro to point out they would be late if they didn't leave soon. The two took their hasty leaves.

Ren and Yashiro weren't halfway to the car, when Kyoko came running after them.

"Tsuruga-san…" She looked around quickly, then blurted out. "Um, something unexpected has come up. I… don't know if I'll be able to attend the… project at the scheduled time."

Yashiro needed less than a minute to decode the message. The project – the Cain and Setsu act.

Ren seemed confused.

"Something school-related?"

"Um… not quite."

"You seem very vague, Mogami-san. I'm afraid I don't understand."

"It's a… family matter. It doesn't affect me directly right now, but… it might. I just… I wanted to ask… would it be a problem if I'm gone for an extra day or two?"

*

Yashiro didn't know what happened, but Ren's mood darkened considerably. Even though the smile on his face remained, his eyes and tone were cold. "Why are you asking me that? It's the President who arranges those things – he is the only one to give you permission."

Yashiro balked. Although he had heard Ren use that tone on Kyoko before, he'd never seen him direct so much malice at her without softening it at least a bit. She felt it too – her whole body shrunk back, her shoulders hunched, as if she was trying to protect herself against a gale. Still, the manager had to admire her courage – she pressed on.

"But, um… the role I have relates to you directly," she said.

"It's not that important," Ren said. "If you have something important to do, Mogami-san, then do it. As for me, I don't need you to finish the project."

She clenched her fists, and nodded. "I understand. I'm sorry to have kept you for so long."

Then she bowed and ran off, presumably to school. For a moment, Yashiro just stared at her, dumbstruck, then turned to his charge to demand an explanation. But Ren had already turned on his heel and was walking towards the car in a brisk pace.

"Yashiro-san, you should hurry," he said. "If we don't leave now, we'll be late."

There was no arguing with that.

And in the end, Yashiro never got the chance to ask.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! or any of the books and films mentioned here. This is a work of fiction, made just for fun.
> 
> This is a reposting of the fic I started on ff.net, because I'm an idiot who locked herself out of her account and I want to write the ending.

"Kyoko-chan? Kyoko-chan, what are you doing there?"

Kyoko opened her eyes to find herself face to face with a Daruma doll. Her landlady was leaning over her, a concerned look on her face. She straightened up, and stared at the table. Textbooks and loose paper were scattered everywhere, and she had turned her exercise notebook into a pillow.

"I'm… sorry," she muttered, looking up. "I didn't want to bother you with keeping the light on, so I came here."

"Goodness, were you up late? I hope you got some sleep."

She hadn't, and they both knew it. Kyoko rubbed her hand over her face and tried to gather her thoughts.

"We have an exam coming up," she said. "I really needed to study for it."

"But your school is so flexible. Didn't you say they set exam times specifically for each student?" Okami-san said, and started gathering Kyoko's textbooks into a pile. "You've been working so hard lately, with all those projects. Surely they can give you a little break."

"Oh… umm…" The truth was, she could, but in order to do so, she would have to present a document stating which production she was helping out with, what her role was, with names and dates and everything – and the only people who knew she was Setsuka Heel were the President, Tsuruga-san and Jelly Woods. "It's better I get it out of the way as soon as possible," she said, at length.

To distract herself as well as her landlady, Kyoko quickly threw an apron on and started wiping the floor. For a while, Okami-san watched her work, and Kyoko worried that she might press the matter. Then she shrugged and went into the kitchen.

The girl heaved a sigh heavy enough to knock someone over, and tried to focus on her task. Unfortunately, there was only so much thought you could put into handling a mop, and her mind strayed.

Deep down, Kyoko knew that this wasn't good – she was falling back into old habits, and cramming had never really worked for her. She was certain she would fail horribly on the test if she didn't get a break, but…

If she did, she would have nothing to think about. And being idle was not a good thing, not right now.

She thought about talking to Sho's mother, after such a long time. She'd been surprised – she thought that Setsuie-sama wouldn't want to look at her again, after she was so ungrateful to her and her husband. Like every time she was reminded of a stupid thing for Sho's sake, Kyoko felt humiliated, and a little bit angry. They had seen the dogged devotion with which she had followed Sho around, and yet they hadn't thought about discouraging it, not once. It made for an insanely long pause, after the first greetings were discharged.

"So you're not living with him anymore?" Setsuie-sama had said, when Kyoko told her she and Sho weren't on talking terms. "I see. I'm really sorry to hear that – I hope you can make do alone in Tokyo."

"I'm alright," she'd said. "I can't promise anything, but if I see Sho, I'll let him know you've been trying to get a hold of him."

"Thank you, Kyoko-chan."

"Setsuie-sama, has something happened?" It seemed so odd that Sho's mother would try to get in contact with him, after all this silence. Then again, Kyoko didn't know how often they communicated – they could have been talking on the phone constantly in the beginning, but she had spent so long outside of the apartment she had no way of knowing.

"Not really," Sho's mother said. "That is… my husband has been feeling poorly lately, and he's been wanting to speak to Shotarou for a whole now. But we didn't know how to approach him."

Kyoko frowned, feeling the old sentiments of resentment stirring inside of her once again. Honestly, she'd been jealous of Sho's parents. Maybe it was because they were the only couple she saw interacting on a regular basis, but they seemed like the perfect example of a family. She'd dreamed that one day she (and Sho, ugh!) would be just like them, and had been looking forward to calling them mother and father.

Of course, she thought as she polished the tables in Daruma-ya, just because the son had treated her badly didn't mean that the kindness his parents had shown her had not been real. After all, Sho's mother had taught her many skills, without which Kyoko doubted she would have gotten her current day job. Even if she didn't owe Sho nothing other than the most gruesome revenge, his parents raised her and she owned them a tremendous debt.

And then…

"Okami-san," Kyoko said. "I might have to leave town for a day or two. Would it be possible for me to take the Friday off?"

Her landlady peeked out of the kitchen, a frown on her face. "Leave town? Where to?"

She sighed. "Kyoto."

*

President Takarada must be going through another pirate stage, Ren thought as he observed the decorations in the waiting room. Pictures of Caribbean landscapes, models of ships, living parrots flying about… he would not have been surprised if Johnny Depp strolled in, in full Jack Sparrow gear.

"Do you know why he wants to see me so suddenly?" he asked Jelly Woods, who was keeping him company.

"No. But knowing my darling, it's probably some spur-of-the-moment thought that transformed into a helpful idea," Jelly said. "He doesn't tell me anything, though."

Ren nodded absent-mindedly. The question was redundant – he already had a good idea what the president might be calling him in for, and he wasn't looking forward to another dressing-down. He had promised not to hurt Kyoko, and yet there he was, being rude and unfeeling towards her. There was no doubt that Lori knew everything in excruciating detail – Ren just hoped that the scolding wouldn't be too bad.

The doors opened, and Takarada's latest (and slightly shell-shocked) associate staggered out. Ren waited for a beat, then followed Jelly inside.

The president was lounging, in the costume of a 1700s buckaneer, and flipping through some files. "Ah, Ren, Ten-san, right on time. Are you doing well?"

"Yes, sir," the younger man said.

"Excellent. Take a seat, I'll be done with these in a minute."

Ren looked at Jelly for help, but the make-up artist was already leaving the room. She gave him a thumbs-up and closed the door.

Silence fell. Ren was pretty sure that the paperwork could wait, and that the president was just letting him stew before going for the kill, but he said nothing. In his mind, he deserved it. Finally, Lori set the dreaded files aside and faced him.

"There's been a complication."

"I didn't mean it," Ren blurted out.

"Mean what?" 

"I didn't mean to be rude to her," he said. "I really didn't. I'm sorry, and I'll do what it takes to make it up to her."

Takarada blinked. "I think you need to backtrack, Ren. I don't think I understand."

The younger man stared. Then he heaved a sigh. "This is about what happened yesterday with Mogami-san, isn't it? You heard that I said some mean things to her, didn't you?"

"Well, I do now," the president said. "Although it does put things in a clearer light."

Ren winced. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but what things?"

President Takarada didn't answer immediately. Instead, he pressed the tips of his fingers together and surveyed his protégé. Ren was not inherently cruel, but he tended to focus too much on his own drama, and forget that others didn't have enchanted lives either. As such, there was only a certain way you could approach things with him.

"Mogami-san requested a leave of absence earlier this morning. She'll be unavailable until Friday, possibly longer, and said that a relative had fallen ill."

For a moment, Ren was completely immobile. Then he covered his face and slumped in his chair. "I've blown it."

"Not necessarily," Lorry said. "For all we know, she really could be visiting a sick relative. You're not the only one who's stingy about details of their past."

Ren rubbed his eyes. "Has she said anything else? Anything at all?"

"No. Just that she is very sorry, of course, and that she will make up for it as soon as possible. Sawara-san is re-arranging her schedule as we speak, and she says that her boss from Daruma-ya has given her a holiday already. I imagine she had some days accumulated." President Takarada lit a cigar. "The only thing left is her role as Setsu."

Ren wasn't listening. The events of the previous day were running in his head at full speed, and the pieces of the puzzle started connecting. Kyoko, furious, storming up to Fuwa and immediately launching into an angry triad. Her running after him. Her asking, hesitantly, if he would be okay without her for a few days.

"She tried to tell me," he said, in the voice of a man who's just been handed his death sentence. "She tried to tell me, and I acted like a complete and utter ass."

"Well, if you say so, I won't try to dispute it," Takarada said.

Ren groaned. This was horrible. Worse than a dressing-down. Worse than being threatened with an outing. Worse, even, than having to share a tiny apartment with the girl he loved… while she played a character whose idea of in-house attire was a mini-dress and boots. She'd just started feeling more like his equal, and then he went and put her down immediately.

"I made a huge mess of this," he said, looking at Takarada wretchedly.

"Undoubtedly."

"When does she leave?" Maybe he could meet her at the train station, or at Daruma-ya, and offer her a ride. Or, at the very least, tell her that he didn't mean any of the things he said, that she was very important and that please, if this newly found relative's illness wasn't too serious (read: he wasn't dying), could she postpone the trip.

The president read his intentions and ordered him to stay in the chair.

"She's going to do what she set out to do, Ren, and you're going to let her," he said. "I told you already, I never asked you to look after Mogami-san, and I won't have you breathing down her neck whenever she tries to put some distance between the two of you."

"I'm not… I just…" Ren gave up. "I don't want her to misunderstand."

"Then I suggest you be more careful what you say next time you two have a fight," the president said. "As it is, Mogami-san's schedule has been cleared for the next few days, and she'll be taking her break. The only question is whether you will continue as planned with the Black Jack shoot, or wait until she comes back."

Ren hesitated. His schedule was pretty busy, but it wasn't anything a little clever managing couldn't fix. He could count on Yashiro to handle the interviews and the shootings and whatnot, and he could become Cain Heel when Kyoko returned.

But what if she didn't return, a little treacherous voice in his head asked. What if she was so spooked by his crazy mood swings that she quit the Setsu stunt?

What was more, he was running out of time. It had been a little under a month since his father had come to visit. The Black Jack shooting was scheduled to end in three weeks. What if he hadn't been able to conquer "Kuon" by then? What if he still couldn't face his parents after he was done being Cain Heel? He needed Kyoko, but if he relied too heavily on her, the whole exercise would be useless.

"I'll go on," he said. "I've already decided."

And he could only hope that she returned to him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! 
> 
> This is a work of fan fiction, for fun only.

Seeing the Fuwa Ryoken after two years of absence was a strange experience. The park seemed smaller, the lanes harrower. Was it really so long ago that she was running around here, pretending to be playing with fairies? She wasn't much taller than she had been when she'd left for Tokyo, yet everything seemed different from where she stood.

The resort itself was largely unchanged, although she noted that it had been recently repainted. She felt a familiar tension building up, and tried to remind herself that her mother no longer lived here.

She entered and almost immediately saw Yumiko, one of the girls who had been starting their apprenticeship at the time of her leaving.

"Welcome," she said, smiling. "Do you have a reservation?"

"Yumiko-san," Kyoko said. "It's me."

The girl stared at her, then dropped her pencil and rushed out from behind the reception desk to hug her. Then, without preamble, she rushed her into the staff room, where more hugging and squealing was initiated – as it turned out, most of the staff had remained the same, and they were all glad to see her. Kyoko was starting to get light-headed, when a voice cut through the commotion.

"What's the meaning of this?"

The women around her scattered, revealing a tall figure in a traditional kimono. Kyoko froze, then straightened up and bowed politely.

"Good day, Setsuie-sama."

*

Sho's mother was one of those women that made you feel uncomfortable even when you weren't doing anything odd. Kyoko wondered if she had always known that, or if she had just come up with that ridiculous observation.

They were sitting in a little side room and Setsuie was preparing tea.

"I must say, I didn't expect you to come," she said. "I've wanted to see you, of course, but I never thought… I do hope it hasn't caused you much inconvenience."

"No, it's alright," Kyoko said. "I managed to shift work around and freed a few days."

"Ah, wonderful," Setsuie said, and arranged her sleeves more carefully. "I take it you didn't get to see my son before you left?"

Kyoko hesitated. If Sho hadn't called already, it was likely that he wouldn't. "I've tried leaving a message for you. His manager will probably hear it."

Sho's mother sighed. "Never mind. It's not that important." She played with the tea things, then gave Kyoko a small smile.

Both women were silent. Kyoko stared at the familiar surroundings and tried to work up the courage to speak up. She had so much she wanted to say, yet no words to put together. There was simply no way to say what she needed to without coming off as ungrateful or shameless.

"I'm really glad you came, though," Sho's mother said. "It really does mean a lot."

"Thank you. Fuwa-sama," Kyoko said, "I'm really sorry about the manner with which I left your care. It was foolish and inconsiderate, and I don't deserve your courtesy, but I do hope that you will be able to forgive me, after a time."

Because she was bowing, she could not see the expression that passed through Setsuie's face. She hid it well though – it was gone as fast as it had come, so that when Kyoko raised her head, she was met with an image of perfect serenity.

"I never blamed you to begin with," she said, while pouring them both tea. "True, you left rather abruptly, but you were nearly sixteen at the time, and Shotarou could already travel on his own. You needed to find your own way, and if it meant going to Tokyo, then so be it." She gave Kyoko a penetrating look. "He hasn't acted inappropriately towards you, has he?"

Kyoko thought about Sho – how he had used her, tossed her aside, how he had repeatedly insulted and belittled her. It stung as badly as the first day, but she realized that Setsuie wasn't asking about that.

"No," she said. "He treated me like a sister."

"That's good, at least," Sho's mother said, and then changed the subject. "Do you plan on being away from Tokyo for long?"

Kyoko shifted in her seat. "No, unfortunately. I only got time off from work until Friday."

"I see." She didn't ask what kind of work that was. "Well, we have kept your room as it was – you can always stay here."

"You're very kind."

"Nonsense. You're practically family," Sho's mother said. "And if you were to return to Kyoto permanently, I wouldn't hesitate to give you a job. You were one of the best of our staff, and I wouldn't mind having you here again."

*

Later, Setsuie brought Kyoko to see Sho's father. Fuwa Ryotarou looked a touch more animated than his wife had made him out, and immediately sent for someone to bring a radish and a knife. Kyoko had laughed while doing her old trick, but the rose she made was a touch less perfect than the others. She could tell Ryotarou thought so too, and quickly justified her lack of skill with the lack to practice time.

"So you're really busy, eh?" he had said, examining the radish. "Those people you work for in Tokyo must work you in the ground."

"Not at all. It's just that I have so many jobs, and I have to go to school…"

"Oh, yes, yes, of course, you're still in school." Fuwa-san had patted her hand. "I always forget you're only sixteen, Kyoko-chan. You always had such a gravely air around you, like you had to take care of everyone."

She smiled, and didn't correct him.

"So what kind of place are you working in?" Fuwa-san asked.

"Oh, Daruma-ya is a traditional restaurant. I mostly cover the floor, although the Taisho has me help him from time to time. And I also get jobs through LME."

"LME? What is that?" Setsuie asked. She had been preparing her husband's medicine by the side of the bed.

"It stands for Lory's Majestic Entertainment," Kyoko said. "It's a talent agency for actors and singers."

Both of Sho's parents gave her a long, surprised look.

"So… you're an actress, Kyoko-chan?" Setsuie asked, at length.

"Yes. I only do small jobs, but recently I've gotten a couple of bullying roles," she said. "I played Mio in Dark Moon."

The Fuwas reacted like everyone else did, when hearing of that for the first time – with disbelief, followed by surprise and awe. Later on, the other employees in the ryoken asked her about it too, and gasped and giggled when she told them all about it. Yes, she had come three hours earlier to have her make-up done. Yes, she did get a lot of role requests after that drama. Yes, Tsuruga Ren really did all his stunts by himself.

Her sempai was a favorite subject in Kyoto as well as in Tokyo, never mind that the son of the owners was rising in popularity at an incredible speed. Kyoko took pleasure in listening to the other girls fawn over him, but deep down, she felt worry worm its way into her heart. Had he decided to go along with the Cain Heel act without her? Probably. His words, I don't need you, rang into her mind again and again, making her increasingly miserable.

*

At last, she decided to step outside and take some fresh air. It was spring, and the woods had just started to waken. She strolled down the familiar alleys, before veering off on her usual route. Soon, her clearing came up.

Except, like everything else, it looked much smaller. The creek, which had seemed like a river when she was little, was so narrow now she could easily jump over it without getting her shoes wet. She chose to sit down on a fallen log instead. And thought.

Tsuruga-san had said that he didn't need her. Maybe earlier, she would have believed that, but they had gone an admittedly long way since they first met. She wasn't so shy about asking him what the matter was, and even if he was as evasive as ever, he seemed to trust her more.

Or, you know, just clung to her like a lifeline from time to time.

The thought brought a blush to her cheeks, but also brought back the dread she had first experienced, when faced with the prospect of leaving Tokyo. The same questions ricocheted in her head.

Would he really be alright, without Setsu?

Would Mursame push him too far?

How much of the act was Cain Heel, and how much of it was Tsuruga Ren?

She tried telling herself, for the umpteenth time, that her sempai could handle it, but her previous revelations contradicted that idea. Tsuruga Ren had issues. Lots and lots of issues, and some of them were far too great to handle, especially for someone like her. He obviously blamed himself for something horrible, and that self-loathing ran deeper than he let people believe. In a way, Tsuruga Ren was an acting himself.

No.

No, that wasn't right.

Tsuruga Ren was an act. It was easy to forget, but she did remember when he had told the Beagle that this was a stage name. But for the life of her, Kyoko couldn't remember his real one. He was never referred to in another name, at least around her, and even the president always called him Ren. Added to that, his lack of knowledge about some traditional aspects of Japanese life, as well as his spelling difficulties, all pointed towards the fact that he was not, in fact Japanese.

She guessed it would make sense, but it also meant that she would have a harder time discovering what had happened to him. For one thing, she didn't even know where he had come from.

What are you doing, Kyoko, she thought. If he really wanted you to find out his secrets, he would have told you.

He probably would have. But… still…

She remembered him waiting for her, that night when she had gone shopping. He'd been shivering from head to toe, and his hands were ice cold, even under the blanket. Try as she might, Kyoko couldn't bring herself to think of him as just her sempai after she'd seen him so vulnerable.

She dug through her pocket and retrieved her phone. If his schedule had been unchanged, he would be home right now. Kyoko wondered if he would be upset if she called him. Then she decided she just didn't care.

If she just heard him reassure her again, it would be okay, even if it was fake.

Ren answered on the first ring. She was so surprised she almost hung up.

"Hello? Hello, Mogami-san, is that you?" He sounded nervous, and even… a little breathless.

"Um, yes, hello," she said. "I'm sorry, this is an inconvenient time. I'll call you tomorrow."

"No, no, no," Ren said. "It's okay, I just… forgot the stove on, that's all. Sorry, it's off now. How are you, Mogami-san?"

"Fine, thank you," she said, while wondering how on Earth his stove was on in the first place. He didn't know how to cook.

"I heard from the president about your leaving. Did you arrive safely? Is your family alright?"

"Yes, yes, they're fine. I'll be staying for a few days to help them out." When Setsuie had mentioned that they wouldn't be getting a nurse until the weekend, Kyoko had offered to stay and help out so that Sho's mother wouldn't have to worry about both her husband and the ryoken.

"So it's very serious then? I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's… not so much serious as it is very inconvenient. The family who raised me… they're running a big business, and they need as many people as possible." She hesitated. "You're carrying on with the Cain Heel act."

"Yes," Ren said. "Unfortunately, I couldn't shift my schedule around, but I spoke to director Konoe, and he will arrange for me to have as little contact with Murasame as possible."

"I'm really sorry for the inconvenience," she said, wincing.

"Your family is more important," Ren said. "You wouldn't be able to focus while worrying about them, would you? It's better if you went and reassured yourself, instead of staying away."

Was it her, or did she hear wistfulness in his voice.

"I took my wig and clothes with me," she said. "If everything goes according to plan, I'll join you as soon as I step off the train on Friday."

"In that case, can you give me the time when you arrive? Cain Heel wouldn't let his sister walk alone to the hotel, after all," he said, no doubt sensing her confusion.

"But it might coincide with the filming," she said.

"It won't. Trust me."

Mollified, she complied. Then there was a pause. She didn't know how to close off, and she wanted to say something to reassure him, and prompt reassurance in return.

"Is there anything else, Mogami-san?" Ren asked. He sounded so eager, she blurted the first thing on her mind.

"I just wonder what would be in-character for Setsuka to do, when parted from her brother," she said, and kicked herself.

Tsuruga-san, however, considered the statement seriously, and replied, "Well, I'm guessing that she would miss him. I told the director that you went on a visit to a relative, so I guess he will modify that to suit our cover story. Setsuka would probably be annoyed."

"Yes, that's true. She would probably call her brother every day," Kyoko said, wondering if she was too transparent.

"And because her brother adores her, he would be looking forward to her phone calls," Ren said. "He might go as far as to keep his phone on during filming."

That made her freak a little. "That would cause so much trouble."

"It would. But if perhaps Setsuka was told very sternly to only call when there are scheduled breaks…" Ren trailed off.

"Yes, yes, that would make much sense," Kyoko said.

"Alright then." The voice on the other side shifted to a deeper, darker tone, and the next sentence was spoken in English. "Setsu, I'm serious. You better not call outside of those times, or else you'll be into a lot of trouble when you get back."

Kyoko smiled. "Okay, okay, jeez! It's not like I'll be interrupting anything important." She tried to throw as much petulance in her voice as she could muster.

Tsuruga-san chuckled, and the sound caressed her ears. "It's common courtesy to visit our relatives. Just bear with it."

"Fine," she said. The next words came out alone. "I wish I was back with you already."

It shocked her, and she held her breath. Was that a Setsu-like thing to say? Could he give her an NG sigh from Tokyo? But Ren's answer was pitch-perfect.

"I wish you were back too," he said, and she could feel the Emperor of the Night from across the line. Her heart skipped several beats, but she kept her voice cool.

"So why shouldn't I come back immediately?"

"Be patient," he said, and then added, "Be safe, Setsu. I miss you."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Skip Beat! This is a fan work, for fun only.

So where's that sister of yours?"

Ren glanced briefly at Murasame, then resumed staring in the distance without answering.

"Don't ignore me, you bastard! Do you think that you can go a whole day without talking to anyone? Or do you plan on actually participating like a human being!"

In the confines of his sleeve, Ren's hand balled into a fist. He really needed to invest in a stress ball. Possibly one that was shaped like Murasame's head.

"Answer me!"

"To what?" Ren asked. "You're so scatterbrained, I can't be bothered with following your convoluted ramblings."

Murasame looked ready to start a fight, but then director Konoe called him over to discuss something in the script. When Murasame complied, and a little distance was put between him and Cain Heel, the whole room breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Ren sighed quietly. He'd promised director Konoe that he wouldn't get into more fights with Murasame, and he didn't want to break that promise, but the boy was just compulsively hateful. He didn't remember being so irritated with someone since Fuwa.

Thoughts of Japan's favorite teenybopper idol brought him back to Kyoko. The thought made him restless – she had only left Tokyo two days ago, and it felt like an eternity. If he had his way, he'd be on the first train to Kyoto, ready to make his excuses, on his knees if necessary. Little details like professional engagements and not knowing where she stayed be damned, he was willing to scour the city on foot. But Director Konoe hadn't been the only person he'd made promises to.

"Ren, I want you to swear it," the President had said. "No matter how long it takes her, you will not try to influence her returning in any way."

"But you have no idea where she went or who those relatives are. She could be held by the yakuza for all we know."

"In any way, Ren. You won't call her, you won't text, you won't manipulate her or twist her arm around."

"I would never… What kind of monster do you take me for?"

"The lonely kind," Lory had said. "Listen to me, Ren. I know you don't mean to take advantage of her, but you are. The girl's a pathologic people pleaser, and on top of all, she holds your opinion in very high regard. This falling out you had can either work out great, or it can toxify your relationship forever. Think about that."

Ren sighed again, this time louder. A stage hand that was walking past him started, and then scurried away as fast as he could. Ren kicked himself mentally. He was on set. He had to stay focused. Daydreaming wouldn't help, anyway – things were complicated enough as it were.

His phone buzzed, and he smiled when he saw the caller ID.

The President had forbidden him from calling Kyoko. He hadn't said anything about Kyoko calling him.

"Setsu," he said, smiling. Everyone in hearing range strained to listen.

"Brother. How's the filming going?"

He chuckled. Straight to the point as usual. "How do you think?"

"Did that idiot pick a fight already? He usually waits until after lunch."

"Alas. One can't get a moment's rest. How's Kyoto?"

"How do you think?"

Good. Too good. So good that it makes you reconsider coming back at all.

"That boring, huh?"

"You have no idea. It's only a few more days, but it's a pain," Kyoko said. Ren tried to discern how much of the petulance in her voice was real, and how much – for the sake of the act. It tallied pretty evenly. Too evenly.

"Really? Is it such trouble?" he asked, hoping to tip the balance a little in his favor.

"No," her tone dropped to her more natural timber. It almost felt like he was talking to her again. "No. Everyone's really nice, and I'm not doing any particularly hard work. It's just that…"

He held his breath.

"It's just that… this place is weird."

Ren frowned. "Weird how?" If she felt like she was in some kind of danger, he'd get there for her, promises be damned. He remembered what had happened last time she'd called him to say she was afraid, and he hadn't come on time. He didn't want to think what might have happened if it hadn't been for Fuwa's intervention.

"Just… nostalgic, I guess. It's like I've been here, once." Her tone dropped further, acquiring an odd, dreamy quality to it. "Everything is so familiar, and yet so different, like it's from another life."

"Maybe it is."

"Hmm," she said, then giggled. "Brother… you know that legend they have here, that lovers who killed themselves are reborn as siblings?"

Ren blinked. Yes, that bit of unrelated weirdness was all Setsu. "I'm glad to hear you're enjoying your visit," he said. "Don't call me during the shoot, or I'll pick up."

"Fine, fine! Gotta go anyway, they're calling me. Miss you."

"I—" she hung up.

*

Kyoko closed her phone and took a deep breath to calm her galloping heart. Really? Lovers who killed themselves are reborn as siblings? Did she really just say that? To Tsuruga-san of all people? She felt like she might burn up in shame.

At least you didn't say that to his face, she thought, but it wasn't much consolation.

"Kyoko-chan?" Sho's father called from inside the room. She shook herself, hid the phone and went back inside. "I thought I heard your voice. Were you talking to a guest?"

"No, Fuwa-san," she said. "I had to take a… work-related call."

"Ah, yes, you were speaking in English. I wasn't sure, you know. You sounded so different."

She froze for a second. Had he understood her? She knew that his wife spoke English fluently, but she wasn't in the family rooms now, and she thought that the Taisho had never bothered to learn it. She imagined them asking her about those shameless things she said, and felt like dying of embarrassment.

"I don't know. Competent, I suppose." He coughed, distracting her. She went to fetch his medicine, and for a few minutes, they said nothing. "I'm sorry for burdening you like that, Kyoko-chan. Really, if my worthless son had done his duty, you wouldn't be in that position."

"Sho has his… work," Kyoko said. "I'm sure he means no disrespect."

Fuwa-san snorted, but didn't argue with her. He leaned back and closed his eyes. "Feels like I haven't seen you in ages. And yet you're just sixteen."

"Seventeen now, Fuwa-san."

"Really? I could have sworn we took you in only eight years ago. But oh, well. My head is playing tricks on me." He sighed – his medicine tended to make him sleepy. Kyoko watched him carefully, then tucked the blankets around him and set about straightening the room.

It really was a mess. Pillboxes, clothes, paper – it was clear that nobody had time to clean up around here. She didn't remember the ryoken ever being so busy, but then again, it had been a while. Perhaps, if Fuwa-san didn't need her, she could help downstairs, greeting the guests, or maybe lend a hand in the kitchens…

What are you doing? You're not their servant.

Kyoko stopped and frowned down at the papers in her hands. True, she didn't live with the Fuwas anymore, but that didn't mean she had to sit around, picking her nose when there was so much work to be had.

There's no need to break your legs running around, either. Just do what you're doing and call it a day.

She shook her head and focused on the task at hand. She really didn't understand her head sometimes.

Something caught her eye, and she turned the paper over to get a good look at it. It looked like a letter from a bank, denying an extended loan.

Kyoko frowned, realizing that quite a lot of the papers she was sorting out were of a similar sort. Requests for a loan, requests for extending the loan, bills, bills, bills. Not at all surprising, of course – once, when she had been fifteen or so, Sho's mother had given her a glimpse of the ryoken's financial documents, just so that she had an idea what kind of sums were standard.

But there was a letter from the insurance company, refusing refund for some piece of broken equipment because it wasn't properly registered. And another from a food supplier, giving third warning about a delayed payment. Kyoko wasn't a very skilled accountant, but she knew that being late on payments wasn't a good thing.

She shook her head. This was none of her business – she was an actress, after all, not a mathematician. She stopped her work and stepped up to the window to enjoy the view – surely, the peacefulness of it all would calm her right down.

But worry had already wormed its way into her heart, and she looked upon the woods and groves, not with a nostalgia of childhood, but with the critical eye of someone trained to be an okami from a very early age. And what she saw bothered her. The park looked well enough, but there were signs that it wasn't being kept like it had been. The lanes were narrower because nobody would bother to cut up some branches for a good path. The staff running around seemed depleted.

Perhaps if she were a customer, coming for the first time, this would not have bothered her. But she had lived here for most of her life, and she prided herself on knowing it as well as Setsuie-sama. She could tell when there was something rotten.

Kyoko glanced at Fuwa-san. He was still sleeping deeply. Surely, he wouldn't begrudge her if she checked out the account books, just gave them a quick glance to settle her fears. And since he was the one who kept record, she wouldn't even have to leave his room to do it.

Ignoring the thought that she was snooping, Kyoko knelt by the table holding the books and started searching.

*

"Cut! That's a wrap. Good job everybody!" Director Konoe said, dismissing them.

Ren stepped out of the shooting range, and went directly to his bag. No new messages, no missed calls. Not at all unsurprising, but he had been holding out some hope.

Meanwhile, Murasame went up to the director.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked, before the other man could get a word in edgewise.

Konoe nodded and they walked up to one of the private rooms. "What can I do for you, Murasame-kun?"

"It's about Cain Heel," Murasame hesitated. "Director, where is his translator?"

"Heel-san says Setsuka-san had to go visit some relatives they have in the country. She should be back by Friday."

"Isn't that irresponsible? After all, he needs her, doesn't he?"

Konoe didn't reply immediately. He measured the younger man's tone, took in his stance, tried to gauge the hidden meaning. Everyone knew, at this point, that Cain Heel could speak Japanese, but Murasame had a special grudge against him and his sister.

"I'm not sure how you want me to respond," the director said. "Heel-san can handle the everyday interactions well enough, and today's filming went without a glitch."

"Yes, but…" Murasame opened his mouth, then stopped. "But he's loose. I don't like that."

"I don't understand."

"When we fought…" the actor began. "When I dropped us from those boxes… she was there. I heard her scream, and he let me go."

Konoe didn't answer.

"Forgive me, I must speak plainly. That man you've hired is unstable," Murasame said. "The only times when acts halfway normal is when his sister is near. Now she's not here to hold his leash – how long do you think it'll take before a tragedy strikes, director? Are you really going to allow it."

The director locked his jaw. He didn't want to admit it, but Murasame's fears were justified, very much so. Even with Tsuruga-san's assurance that everything was an act, he still felt a little scared. In the back of his head, he knew that such a powerful response was impossible – nobody was that good an actor.

"You certainly noticed a lot, Murasame-kun," Konoe said, at length. "However, I don't know what you want from me."

"Isn't it obvious? Fire him for disobedience and get someone else in to do the part. He's clearly too dangerous to have around."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Murasame-san."

"But…"

"Hear me out. Heel-san is very rash, yes, but he's a foreigner who is used to doing things his own way. Furthermore, if I fired him for disobedience, I would have to let you go as well."

"You can't tell me you think that, Director," Murasame said, but his voice lacked conviction. The wheels were starting to turn in his head, and he didn't like the score he got.

"I'm just telling you how this will look like from a lawyer's point of view. Which, undoubtedly, it would come down to if I fired Heel-san without good justification. We've signed a contract, and so far he's been fulfilling his obligations – to act. If we terminate his contract, we would have to pay handsomely. Furthermore, we're already a long way into the productions – changing the actor means we need to reshoot the scenes we have already done, which means more time and more money. Lastly, there's the engagement on the other actors' time, which is already agreed upon – we need to give them compensation as well."

"Director—"

"Let me finish, Murasame-kun. I'm trying to explain that from the producers' standpoint, letting Heel-san go will just not do, not without good justification."

"So we're going to let him go, and hope he doesn't blow up?"

"I'm afraid so."

Murasame seemed deep in thought. Finally, he said, "Director, am I to understand that you need better justification to let Heel go?"

"Yes."

"And that we can't use any of the old footage?"

"Not without paying another hefty sum, no."

"And if there was a good reason? A reason which even the police can't ignore?"

"Murasame-kun…"

"We're speaking hypothetically here, director. If Heel-san was arrested, then the producers would have no other choice than to find a different actor, and nobody would have to pay anything, right?"

"In theory, yes, but Murasame-kun…"

"No, I understand. That would not be a good thing. I will trust your judgment, director, and do my best not to provoke him further."

With that, he bowed and left.

*

Kyoko's legs were cramped from kneeling in the same position for too long, but she daren't stretch, for fear of waking up Fuwa-san. She'd looked through the main ledgers for the past three years, comparing and contrasting notes and finding no great differences in the accounts. And yet, unlike past years, the ryoken was running a pretty hefty loss because of unpaid bills.

She started chewing on her nails, before realizing what she was doing. A suspicion was one thing, but this? The numbers certainly looked serious. She knew she was no expert, but it didn't take a genius to compare the numbers from previous years and to tell that things weren't going so well. And they would be, if the Fuwa's avoided the overtime costs, but they couldn't. For some reason, money just wouldn't come in.

There were a few accounts that didn't make sense – they were written off as investments from various accounts, but as far as Kyoko knew, the hotel was owned by the family. The biggest shareholder, a company known only as "M", had stopped paying a couple of years ago, about the same time as Kyoko had left for Tokyo with Sho.

The coincidence surprised her, and she tried looking it up, but there was little to be found – Fuwa-san had kept no record of the company, no description, no contracts that she could find. Really, the only note of it was the monthly payment it made, and a phone number.

As she put the books away, she wondered for the umpteenth time why she was so worried. Surely, the Fuwas knew what they were doing. They'd been running this show for a while now, and they'd pulled through well enough.

But… still…

Sho's father started to stir. She hurried to put away the things, and copied down "M"s number. She'd have to check things out more carefully later on.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Skip Beat! This is a fan work for fan purposes only.
> 
> Reposting this here because I locked myself out of ff.net and I want to try and finish this, Kami help me.

Kuon was running. It was dark, he couldn't tell which street he was on, but the pavement beneath his feet was like quicksand. It made movement extremely difficult, like he was wading through molasses. Behind him, someone yelled at him to stop.

Idiots. Like that ever worked.

Tina was there, screaming "Murderer, Murderer". Then other voices joined her – Murasame's taunts, mixed with the other guy's, Rick's last words to him, his parents, begging him to come home. They filled his head, threatening to shatter it.

It was getting harder to breathe. His legs were tired. He was too slow to take a decision – left or right – and he could hear his pursuers closing in on him. There was a ledge there somewhere, all of a sudden – there had always been a ledge. He stood on it, looking down. Wasn't it better to just jump?

He shifted his weight forward. And just as he was going into a freefall, a scream cut through all the other voices. Loud and clear as a bell, it was one he could recognize anywhere. But it was too late.

Ren woke up.

For a moment, he lay in bed, trying to remember his surroundings. He was still breathing heavily. He turned around and looked at Kyoko's bed. It still gave him a jolt to see it empty.

I wish she were here, he thought for the umpteenth time. I wish the President would let me go take her back.

That was only partly true. He wanted to see her, but even in his worst state, he knew that going as far as tracking her when she was out of town was invasive. He might as well break out the body glitter and make a habit of watching her sleep.

Ren glanced at the phone. It was almost dawn. Knowing there was no way for him to go back to sleep, he rolled out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. Maybe he would even try cooking breakfast today – he was almost certain that if he started a fire, the hotel would evacuate the other guests in time.

He stopped when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. His face was pale, his eyes – bloodshot, and he was shaking like a leaf. Was this what Kyoko saw that one time they slept in the same bed? No wonder she was scared – he looked like a junkie coming down from a high.

With a groan, Ren turned his back on his reflection and went to the kitchen instead. Kyoko had hung a calendar there, a grotesque thing with kittens and sparkles and bows, girly to the max and suiting her to the T. He picked up a marker and crossed out the current date – the third in a line of X's that spanned the week. He only had to hold the front for two more days until she returned. Just two more days. He could do that much, couldn't he

Nodding to himself, he started the coffee maker and picked up a cup. The handle came off in his hand.

*

Unbeknownst to him, Ren wasn't the only one awake at this hour. Across town, a man in a hoodie sat in the park, twirling an cigarette in his fingers. Another one, wearing a trench coat with a gang's symbol on the back, came down the alley, and, after taking a long look around, joined the first one on the bench.

"Didn't think you'd show up," Hoodie said.

"Such little faith, and after all we've been through? You disappoint me."

"I know it's very short notice. Not everyone would be able to do me a favor so soon."

"Don't be ridiculous. There are tons of people willing to do you a favor. The only question is – what will you do to pay me back?"

"I have considerable resources at my disposal," Hoodie said. "Name your price – it will be done."

"All this, without even asking for an estimate? You must be in a real hurry."

"No. It's just that this is an important favor."

"Alright," Trench Coat said. "What is it that you want to do? Is there someone you want us to take out for you? Some clerk or cop that made things difficult for you?"

"It's easier than that. He's a foreigner, and a freak to boot. His name is Cain Heel – he lives in an apartment in - hotel."

"Foreigner, you say?" Trench Coat said, a suspicion creeping into his voice. "And a freak? How does he look like?"

"Taller than me. Long black hair. Dresses like a Grim Reaper. You can't miss him."

Trench Coat was silent. The other guy turned to look at him, and saw his companion start to sweat. "What? Is something wrong?"

"Tell me, this Cain Heel… is he a gifted fighter, per any chance?"

"Yes. Though he shouldn't be a match for you guys."

"Are you trying to get us killed?" Trench Coat yelled, startling some of the birds from the tree. "Sorry, Murasame, but I have to decline. I know who this guy is. Kazu's band had a run-in with him by this posh store uptown – they barely made it with their lives."

If Murasame was surprised, he didn't let it show on his face. He had fought with Heel, after all. He knew what he was capable of.

"Kazu and his friends are punks. They were too scared to break out on their own until I retired. I've fought this guy. You guys will handle it."

"I'm sorry, Murasame-kun, but I have to decline. Going against this guy is suicide."

The actor let out a sharp breath. "Fine. Then set me up with some stuff. I'll do all the dirty work."

"Do you think the cops will go against him?"

"They'll have no choice."

Trench Coat seemed to hesitate. At length, he said, "If this backfires, I will deny everything."

"I know that," Murasame said. "I'm not an idiot."

"Fine. How fast do you want the stuff?"

"As fast as possible. Today would be great."

Trench Coat nodded, then took off without any further comment. Murasame waited until he was out of sight, and then threw his hood off. He stared around with a grim look on his face. He was running a tremendous risk, doing this by himself. There were thousands of things that could go wrong, with him being fired riding on top of the list.

But then he remembered being held above ground, his air being cut off, feeling his life running through his fingers. He had to put an end to this. No risk was too high.

*

Kyoko was up early too. After making sure that Sho's father was alright for the day, she donned a staff uniform and went to help in the kitchens. There, she was paired off with a girl name Mai and the two were put on cleaning duty. It was hard, but fulfilling, and Mai had a lot of stories to tell, once the two warmed up to each other.

"You really went motorcycle racing?" she asked.

"Yeah," Mai said, rolling her eyes. "I also hung out with bangs and got a yakuza-style tattoo. Nah, kidding, I didn't do any of that. But I did skip school a few times too many, so my parents sent me here, so that I got my priorities straight. Air quotes implied."

Kyoko laughed, and thought how Mai and Chiori would hit it off right away. They had the same dry sense of humor, the same sardonic look on life.

"How does that work?" Kyoko asked. "Getting your priorities straight, I mean. How does working in a ryoken do that?"

Mai shrugged, but the flippancy of the gesture seemed forced. Her eyes clouded. "They think that I'll learn the importance of hard work, and stop acting so disrespectfully towards them. As if sneaking out for a smoke is disrespectful."

Kyoko's grudges perked up. Even if Ren wasn't around to feed them with his murderous aura, Mai's was a good enough substitute. She wondered if she ought to encourage the younger girl to talk about it, then decided it never hurt anyone to share their problems.

"You seem very angry," she chanced.

"Wouldn't you be angry? I mean, they just took my teachers' word for granted, without even listening to what I had to say!" People turned around when she raised her voice. She and Kyoko grinned sheepishly, and pretended to be engrossed in their work. Finally, Mai said, "They just needed to get rid of me for a while. That's why they sent me here."

Kyoko nodded, although deep down, she worried. Mai's story was oddly similar to her own – disengaged parents abandoning their child – but she had never felt antagonistic towards the Fuwas for taking her in. On the contrary, she'd been glad there was a family to love her enough to keep her, even if her grades were mediocre and her performance – lacking.

Mai, on the other hand, was angry at everyone, and it showed – her work was sloppy, her attitude towards the rest of the staff was indifferent, even insolent. Kyoko wanted to correct her, point out that taking real joy from work was reward enough, but then she reminded herself that this wasn't her job. Surely, Setsuie-sama would install proper manners in her.

But then Mai said something completely unexpected.

"I think that everyone hopes to be a little like you, though."

"How so?"

"Well, you started off here, right? And now you're a TV star. It's a pretty sweet thing to aspire to," Mai said.

It took Kyoko a minute to process that. Then she felt confused. "I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean, Mai-san."

"Oh, come on! Surely you don't think everyone is as dense as the Fuwas. People remembered you, and they recognized you in Dark Moon. Some of them thought that it was the skills you learned here that got you these roles."

Kyoko almost laughed, so ridiculous was the statement. But Mai was dead serious.

"Even my parents think that, if I grow up to be an actress, it wouldn't be so bad."

"Mai-san, really, this is flattering, but it isn't my experiences here that made me who I am today."

"Really? And what is?"

Hard work. Sho's betrayal. Her own background and history. Incredible luck. Supportive friends. When Kyoko really thought about it, she couldn't imagine her career without Moko-san and Chiori-san, the president, Otou-san, or Sawara-san.

Or Tsuruga-san. Especially Tsuruga-san.

It was true that some of the skills she had learned at the ryoken had helped her out. For example, she would not have survived in Tokyo if not for the two jobs she worked to keep both herself and Sho sheltered and fed. She would not have impressed those first directors with her professionalism, or her determination, without those founding years.

But everything was relative, and she had come a long way to get where she was. She wanted to tell Mai how fleeting luck was, and how the barest of coincidences could trip her or boost her to the top.

Instead, she changed topics.

"Who's everyone?"

"Oh, the rest of the kids the Fuwas took in," Mai said. "Rina-chan, Yoshiko-chan and Nina-san all came with me. Our parents are either overseas, or working too hard, or "disappointed" in us—" she smirked sardonically "—so they're paying Setsuie-san and her husband to look after us, and hopefully teach us something useful."

Kyoko's hands stilled. "Oh," she said, her voice as fake as cotton candy. "Is that so?"

Mai stared at her, as if to say, "Didn't you know?"

Feeling the room grow too hot all of a sudden, Kyoko put her broom down and said, smiling. "I'm sorry, I'm due to check on Fuwa-san. Will you do okay on your own?"

Mai nodded, oblivious to the tension in the air. Kyoko bowed to the rest of the kitchen staff and went out, feeling her lungs contracting. She reached into her pocket and retrieved the phone number.

"M" company. "M" like Mogami. The payments that had stopped around the same time she had gone to Tokyo. It seemed like too much of a coincidence. Although she tried to be reasonable about it, there was no other explanation. What company would just give money away without guarantee? The answer was that it wasn't a company at all, but a person.

And children were expensive, after all. The Fuwas had needed an allowance of sorts.

Though that all seemed logical to her, simple even, her head was spinning with the enormity of the discovery. Of course, the Fuwas had a contact with her mother. Of course, they must have kept her up to date with her life. Of course. It all made sense.

Kyoko knelt on the porch and laughed quietly. She'd thought she was so clever, back then. She'd thought that her mother knew nothing about her going to Tokyo. Of course she'd known. She just never cared.

She dug through her pocket and retrieved her phone. She was about to phone Tsuruga-san, when she realized he must be filming already. Then she shook her head – really, was she ten or something? She didn't have to call her sempai to bother him with the minute details of her life.

Kyoko tried to get her thoughts in order. So she had her mother's phone number. What now? It was obvious, at this point, that the woman didn't care for her. Why would she want to talk to her? By any means, Kyoko owed her no debt.

And yet… yet…

Her fingers were dialing the number without her consent. Before she lost her courage, she hit "Dial" and held the phone up. Someone picked up on the second ring. A man.

"Kato and associates, how can I help you?"

That threw her off. The man on the other end of the line repeated his question. She snapped out of it.

"Hello, I'm calling to make an enquiry, in relation to a payment made to the Fuwa Ryoken."

"Please hold. What is the date of the transaction?"

With a voice she barely recognized as her own, Kyoko rattled off the date and account numbers. She heard the other line go silent. When the man answered, his tone was very different.

"That transaction was terminated in agreement to the contract signed by both parties. What is your enquiry?"

"I'm the accountant for the ryoken," Kyoko lied. "I'm trying to trace the transactions and determine their origin. Why is your company listed in the account books under "M"?"

"You should have known that already," the man said.

"Well, I don't." Kyoko decided to change gears. "Is there anyone in your company that goes under the name of Mogami, per any chance?"

The line went completely dead. She looked at the display to make sure they hadn't hung up on her, but everything was okay. When the man replied, his voice shook.

"Who is this? Who am I talking to?"

Panicking, Kyoko did the first thing on her mind – screamed "April's Fool" and hung up. Then she turned her phone off completely. Her heart felt like it might burst out of her chest, it beat so fast.

Then she heard Fuwa-san calling her, and she hurried to his aid. Stupid, she thought. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How presumptuous, to think the world revolved around her, and when there was so much to do! There she went, messing everything up.

Nervously, she shoved her phone into her pocket, and made up her mind not to think about this incident anymore. Maybe, she thought, if she didn't think of it anymore, she would get over the shame of it, eventually.

And, as she hurried to Fuwa-san's aid, she made a wish that her sempai's day went better than hers.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Skip Beat! This is a fan work, for fun only.
> 
> I'm reposting it here because I'm finally trying to finish it. Wish me luck.

If there was anything Tsuruga Ren knew from his wild years, it was that the worst things happened when you least expect them to. And since you least expect something bad to happen when things seem to be going fine, he grew to dread any lengthy moments of calm.

So when the first half of his day went perfectly fine, he went on his guard. It wasn't just that Kuon was unusually subdued – his old personality had calmed down considerably after that last incident – but the other actors were being unusually cooperative. Even Murasame, with whom Ren had to act in three out of the five scenes they shot, was quietly following the script and wasn't even trying to taunt him. Perhaps director Konoe had finally gotten everyone to calm down and do their job, but Ren knew better.

In the lunch break, he poked at his sandwich distractedly when he heard some commotion outside. Even if it wasn't in Cain Heel's character to care for these things, he got up and went into the corridor, just in time to see some stage hands lose control of a trolley carrying a large piece of equipment. It rolled down the corridor, smashing into things, and sending people scurrying for cover.

Ren didn't think – he raised his arms and stopped the runaway thing. It skidded to the side, then stilled.

"Heel-san, thank you so much," one of the stage hands said, hurrying to his side. "That was great on your part. We shouldn't have loaded the trolley so much, but—" Ren turned and walked away as fast as his feet could carry him.

Great. Breaking character, and not in a good way. He was glad that he gave the people a scathing look, at the very least, before he moved on.

He returned to his room and went back to his food. There was still half an hour before lunch break was over, and he wanted to make the most of it. He expected a call from Kyoko, and he was going to be very angry indeed if he missed it.

He was about to sit down, when he noticed that something was off. Not the feel of the room, but a small detail. Ren frowned, trying to work it out. He never head a head for details. But if he didn't figure it out, he knew he would be annoyed by this for the rest of the day.

Finally, he noticed – his bag, which he had throw under the table, now stuck out a little bit. Not a big deal, he could have kicked it.

He could have. But he didn't.

Slowly, as if dreading an attack, Ren went down on his knees and pulled the bag out. He unzipped it and opened it carefully. He was immediately glad he was wearing gloves, because right there, between his spare clothes, were several small packets filled with white powder.

He stared at them for a long time. Not because he didn't know what they were – he had grown up in Hollywood, after all, he knew exactly what those were – but because he was trying to get his temper under control. Kuon, whom he had considered subdued, reared his head and grinned. It was as if he could smell the blood that was about to be spilled.

Ren closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing. So this was how it was going to be. They were done playing nice and breaking out the brass knuckles. Fine. He could play dirty. He could play really dirty. And Murasame would be very sorry. Very sorry indeed.

He had to stop. He had to relax. He had to be cool about this, or else…

Or else, he might lose everything.

He was getting to his feet, intending to go on a walk and clear his head (and if he happened to run into Murasame… well… he didn't know, but he was sure that he would think of something), when he heard commotion outside. Again. Knowing too well that it wasn't another runaway trolley, he went to the window instead. He wasn't all that surprised to see the police cars parking in front.

He didn't know if it was a good or a bad thing.

*

It turned out that anonymous snitches did exist, and the police in Japan took them very seriously. Not fifteen minutes after they had received a tip-off that there was someone with considerable amounts of drugs on them in this or that location, they had closed off the building and started a sweep.

Ren watched as the main detective explained this to Director Konoe, and wondered how long it would take for the officers to get to his room. He saw Murasame in the corner, and thought he saw a smirk on the other actor's face. His fists clenched. He had to stay calm, yet he could barely focus, so strong was his desire to act.

He had one chance, and one chance alone to get out of this mess in one piece, and that was running an enormous risk. But he was up against the wall.

"I can spare you the search," he said in perfect Japanese, as soon as the detective was done. Everyone turned to him. "Cocaine, right? I found some in my bag, just as you were pulling up in front of the building. It should still be there, unless its owner picked it up again."

Everyone stared at him as if he had suddenly done something incredibly out of character, like putting on a sparkly hat and done a tap-dancing routine. The detective was the first to break out of his stupor.

"You found it? And you expect us to believe that?"

"You are very welcome to look through my things. I'm willing to give you my full cooperation."

Director Konoe rushed up to him. "Heel-san, this is…"

"I will cooperate," Ren repeated. "You should know how these investigations can impact on the filming. Hopefully, we'll be able to finish this nonsense on time."

Nobody had any complaints about that. The detective, hardly believing his luck, motioned at him to lead the way.

Ren didn't know how he maintained his calm throughout the ordeal, but he did. The DIY squad had checked all the other rooms, but no other drugs had been found, so his bag was the only thing taken away. Once that was done, the detective sat him down and started firing questions away. When had he found the drugs? Why had he left the bag unguarded? Why was he to believe him?

Ren answered them all, trying to maintain his character while still giving full cooperation. He knew cops, and he knew that particular detective's type – overeager and angry, determined to succeed and piss someone important off. Any resistance would be giving them ammunition. The only reason why he kept his temper under check was because he convinced Kuon there was bigger fish to fry.

Though he did come close to losing it when the police asked for both a blood and urine sample, just in case they missed something. Ren complied, reminding himself throughout that he had nothing to hide.

Nevertheless, the hard part stared after the police packed up and left.

Ren came down in Studio D to find the whole cast waiting. He turned to director Konoe, who wouldn't meet his eye for some reason. They waited. He said nothing. The director was the first to break.

"Well? Heel-san?"

"I cooperated." He figured that without Kyoko, he would just have to make do.

"But they didn't press charges, right?"

"They took a test. They said they'll let me know once the results are out." He didn't add that they had told him not to leave the country either. He figured it was self-explanatory.

Director Konoe wrung his hands. "But, the filming…"

"It should go as planned."

"No, it shouldn't," Murasame said. "I don't know about you guys, but I don't feel comfortable anymore in this environment. We shouldn't be made to act alongside someone who is a criminal."

And that, Ren thought, from a guy who openly bragged about being in a youth gang. Pathetic.

The others didn't think so, though. All around Murasame, people were nodding and giving Ren the stink eye. The tension was thick in the air.

Finally, director Konoe asked, "Heel-san, how long did the detective say their investigation would take?"

"A week, or more."

"In that case, I must ask you to leave for a while," the older man said. "I appreciate your cooperation, but right now, everyone is tense. I can't make arrangements with the producers to postpone the filming on such short notice, but we will minimize the stress on the other actors. I hope you understand."

He didn't wait for Ren to answer, turning instead to the other actors. Well, all the better. At least he didn't sack him.

The others started to disperse, carefully skirting around Ren. Murasame was the obvious exception – he walked straight past him. Kuon didn't let the opportunity go.

"Was this what you wanted?" he asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Murasame sneered. "Perhaps you should have learned better Japanese."

"You do realize they didn't press charges, right?"

"Doesn't matter. You're done here. You should have just stayed in England and spared us the trouble, freak."

Ren's fists started to shake. He couldn't control them anymore. Kuon was taking over.

"Then you pray that they do press charges," he told Murasame. "Pray that they keep me in custody, and don't let me back out on the streets."

Murasame turned on him, a fierce look in his eyes. Ren replied with a cold stare. The room went quiet, waiting for the inevitable to happen.

And then Ren's phone rang. There were only two people who could do so at that moment, and it was unlikely that the President had heard about this fiasco so soon.

"Setsu," he said. Murasame gave him a strange look, and didn't back off.

"Nii-san." Her voice had a strange tremor to it, which distracted him enough to turn away from the little punk. "How are you?"

"There's been some trouble at work. I'll be taking a few days off."

"What? What kind of trouble? Are you alright?" Her panic was palpable.

"It's fine. I'm in no hurry," he said.

"You're not fine. I'm coming back immediately."

"Don't be ridiculous, Setsu." He knew better than to have her anywhere near him when he was in such an agitated state. If he got angry… if he snapped… he didn't want to think about what might happen then. "You have other engagements. You're coming home tomorrow."

"I don't care! I'm on my way to the train station anyway. This place sucks." Her voice broke on the last word, and he heard some fumbling on the other side of the line. It surprised him so much he conceded.

"Fine," he said. "Text me when your arrival time. I'll be waiting for you."

Kyoko mumbled something in agreement, and hung up. He stared at his phone thrown off by this abrupt change of plans. Then he noticed the time – it was a full hour past their scheduled call time. Had the police not arrived, she would have called in the middle of filming.

What on Earth had happened?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! This is a fan work, for fun only.
> 
> This is a reposting. You can read the original, with all of its flaws, from the link in my profile.

There was a time when Kyoko couldn't please people enough. That wasn't to say they showered her with demands, Cinderella-style, but that she always wanted to do more. If they asked her to clean the tatami mats in one room, she'd sweet the entire wing. Serve dinner to one room? Why not every room in the corridor?

She never thought of that as bad – she was being helpful, after all. There was no such thing as overdoing it.

And then she learned that there was, and once it happened, her life became less stressful. It was a nice discovery, as far as those went. But she didn't think much of it until she returned to the Fuwa Ryoken, where people still expected her to go out of her way and do the work for them.

Once or twice, Kyoko caught Setsuie-sama giving her a disappointed look, but the older woman would have preferred to cut her own tongue before she said something straightforwardly. Instead, Kyoko got a lot of heavy sighs and hints that she was not having her priorities straight.

Well, what does she expect of me, Kyoko thought. I'm not a little kid anymore, am I?

But she couldn't bring herself to be really mad at Setsuie. After all, she'd come back to Kyoto on her own volition. There was nothing to be done about that.

It had been pouring ever since morning. The rain had forced the guests indoors, and she was drafted into serving tea to the bedrooms. Fuwa-san was feeling better, which was a relief, and there was thankfully enough work to keep her thoughts away from that embarrassing phone call earlier in the morning. She would have forgotten all about it too, but the person who had spoken to her wasn't so quick to dismiss it.

She was carrying a tray down the hall, past the office, when a quarrel caught her attention. Two people were arguing, and one of them sounded like Sho's mother.

"I told you she came back," the person who sounded like Setsuie said. "But you wouldn't believe me."

"With your track record, madam, I had all the reasons to be suspicious. The girl's been gone for quite some time, and you told me yourself there was no indication that she would be coming back."

"She did, and you will see for yourself, but in good time. You cannot drop in here unannounced and expect me to just take you to her. She needs to things explained to her."

"Yes, and I'll be glad to do that for her."

"I cannot let you do this. Even if she ran away in Tokyo, I'm still her legal guardian, and I have a say in what happens to her."

At this point, it was pretty clear who "she" was, but Kyoko had no idea what those people were talking about. For a moment, she thought about leaving – eavesdropping was not polite, after all – but then she remembered that this was something that concerned her directly.

So she knocked on the shoji screen and slid it aside. Fuwa Setsuie and an older, unfamiliar man, turned to look at her. For a moment, Kyoko's heart stopped under a flood of embarrassment, but she jumpstarted it again.

"I apologize," she said, sounding too formal even for her own taste. "But I overheard what you said while I was passing in the hallway, and I prefer not to eavesdrop. Who is this person, Fuwa-san?"

Sho's mother opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She coughed, and tried again. "Kyoko-chan, this does not concern you. I'll explain later – Kato-san was just leaving."

"I am most certainly not," Kato-san said, before bowing to Kyoko. "It's an honor to finally meet you, Mogami-san. There are no words to express how happy I am that I got in touch with you today."

"Pleased to meet you too," Kyoko said, noticing how her guardian looked like she might be sick. But Kato-san spoke before either of them could formulate a thought.

"Some tea, I think, is in order. Fuwa-san, could you arrange for that?"

"Of course," the woman muttered, still dazed. Kyoko, however, had other ideas.

"Wait, I'm still on the clock. Room five wants their bill, and room seven needs their tea served…"

Kato-san frowned. "I was told you weren't working here anymore."

"I wasn't, but…"

"In that case, you can surely take a break." And, to punctuate that statement, he took the tray she was holding and handed it to Setsuie. "Can we use your office, then, Fuwa-san?"

He didn't say much while they waited for their tea, other than to confirm that he was a lawyer and that, yes, he was indeed looking for her. He even quoted her full name, birth date and the name of the hospital she'd been born in, just to make sure she was convinced. Other than that, though, he was very careful to sidestep her question, especially when Setsuie-san came to serve them.

Which, in itself, was a pretty big deal. The okami performed tea ceremonies on request, yes, but running around like a common waitress? That was something unusual, and Kyoko could only think of two reasons why she did it: one, to debase herself, and thus make up for some transgression without letting anyone notice, or two, because she didn't want anyone to know Kato-san was here.

Both of which, of course, were ridiculous. Nonetheless, the lawyer didn't speak until after they were well and truly left alone.

"First of all, thank you for your patience, Mogami-san," he said. "I understand that this must be very confusing to you, and I will do my best to explain things to the best of my ability. Please forgive me if this has caused you any distress."

"That's alright," she said. "But… Kato-san, could you tell me what your relation to me is? I don't think I know you…"

"No, you wouldn't. Your mother only hired me after she entered the last stages of her illness, and I believe that at that time, you were already in the care of the Fuwas permanently."

Kyoko stared at him. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but then her head was suddenly filled with the words mother and illness.

"I'm sorry, what?" she asked, when she regained her ability to speak. Kato-san winced.

"You didn't know?" he asked, and his face darkened. "I'm very sorry. I knew there were things you weren't told, but I thought at least… I'm so sorry."

"What did you mean? What's wrong with my mother?" Kyoko asked, panic creeping into her voice.

Kato-san looked like he was wishing the earth would swallow him whole. Then, bowing his head, he said:

"She's dead, Mogami-san. She succumbed to an illness seven years ago."

And with that, Kato-san told her the story that her guardians had kept from her for all these years.

Mogami Saena had always dealt with high levels of stress, given her line of work as a businesswoman. However, it wasn't until she started suffering from chronic migraines that she went to see a doctor, who discovered a highly developed tumor in her frontal lobe. The tests showed it was nefarious. The operation prospects were not too pretty. So Saena dealt with the problem with her trademark efficiency – she arranged for her daughter to be looked after and went about settling her affairs.

Kyoko listened to that account with a mixture of horror and fascination, while her mind went back. She remembered her mother's bad temperament, how her mood would darken without reason, how she always sent Kyoko away because her childish antics gave her a headache. Even as a little girl, she knew that if her mother asked for the blinds to be drawn, things were bad and Kyoko was to remove herself from the premises as quietly as possible.

All of these little quirks never seemed out of place, given how openly Saena criticized and disapproved of her, but now they came back to Kyoko with a startling clarity. Were those early signs? Or just another manifestation of her mother's bad temper.

"I'm sorry I delivered those news to you like that," Kato-san said. "I really thought that your guardians had told you."

"No. They never said a word," Kyoko muttered, while wondering how she had been so stupid. Nobody abandoned their kid without at least leaving a way to get in touch. If the Fuwas had had a number for her mother, surely they would have kept her up to speed about Kyoko's grades... not to mention, let her know when she'd ran off to Tokyo. "But I don't understand – why would they keep something like that from me."

The lawyer coughed. "I do not know what your guardians' motivations were, but their track record hasn't been that good, Mogami-san. And, unfortunately, there are quite a few things about your mother's passing that are important to you, and cannot be put off."

"Important things? Like what?" It seemed odd – after all, dead or not, the woman had clearly despised Kyoko. But Kato-san insisted.

"Well, first of all, prior to your mother's diagnosis, her health record was spotless, which is why she was given a considerable life insurance, in addition to the money she made in her line of work. You are, of course, beneficiary to all of that – your mother arranged for you to have access to a quarter of that money on your sixteenth birthday, another quarter is payable to you when you turn eighteen, and the rest – when you turn twenty-five, or if you get married, whichever comes first."

She blinked. "What do you mean by considerable?"

He told her.

She didn't believe him.

He repeated the sum again, slowly, and explained that yes, the decimal point really was before that number, and not another one. And then, to make things perfectly clear, he got a bank slip for her to look at.

She was stumped. "I never knew."

"I got the same impression," Kato-san said, dryly. "It's worth noting that I only found your going to Tokyo after I contacted your guardians about opening an account for you, a little before you were due to turn sixteen. Until that time, they received the allowance they were granted for looking after you, and never gave me an update about your new… living conditions."

Well… that made some sense. If the Fuwas needed the money…

"It's my fault," she said. "I never told them my new address. They only found my phone when they tried contacting their son."

"Be as it may, they lied, Mogami-san. You cannot take responsibility for that."

"They didn't mean it. They're nice people, Kato-san. Surely…"

The lawyer held up a hand to stop her.

"Mogami-san, I am neither condemning them, nor congratulating their deed," he said. "I am only telling you the facts, and their relation to what is going on here. I should also tell you that, in addition to setting aside an allowance for them, your mother bought a share in the Ryokan, in order to get your guardians out of a problematic financial situation. That share is managed by our firm, but you will be given control of it come your eighteenth birthday."

Kyoko opened her mouth, then closed it. Her head was brimming over with information that threatened to spill out. Nothing made sense – her mother, whom she had always considered as cold and cruel, had arranged for her live a safe, comfortable life. Her guardians, who she had remembered with a lot of fondness, had kept secrets from her. The next thing she knew, somebody would tell her that Sho actually wanted to marry her.

Then her thoughts came to a screeching halt.

"You said that I will receive my full inheritance if I marry," she said, slowly.

"If you marry before you turn twenty-five," Kato-san said.

She felt like she might be sick. Things came back to her even faster. Her training. The tea ceremony. The hints Setsuie-san had dropped about an eventual marriage with Shotarou.

"And my guardians knew about this?"

"They were informed of it before they took you in."

She closed her eyes. The world had gone very quiet. She recognized the feeling, that calm before the storm, and for once, she was ready for it.

"Thank you, Kato-san, for telling me this," she said, channeling every bit of Mio's refined manners. "And I apologize for causing so much trouble to you. I'm afraid that my work in Tokyo makes it impossible for me to stay for a longer period of time, but perhaps we can arrange for another meeting soon?"

"Of course," he said, taking out a business card and handing it over to her with a bow. "You are in your full right to pick someone closer to home to represent you, but we would be honored if you continued to use our company for the time being. Also, if you could give me a call with your bank details, I can arrange for you to access the portion of your inheritance which is rightfully yours."

"That is very considerate of you," she said.

"No, it's my pleasure. Your mother was a very respectable woman – perhaps not the most affectionate, but she was an admirable professional. I was about to write to a detective in Tokyo to seek you out, if you didn't turn up before your eighteenth anniversary."

Kyoko made no move to indicate her feelings about that particular bit of information, just nodded politely. "Thank you."

"And there's one last thing," Kato-san said. He removed a large envelope from his briefcase and handed it to her. "These are some of your documents, Mogami-san. Your mother thought it best to entrust us with them, but as you are almost of age, I believe they should be given to you. There is also a letter from your mother, which I was instructed to give to you on your sixteenth birthday."

She clenched her teeth. Finally, she bowed.

"Thank you. I shall contact you if I have any further questions."

He bowed in return. "Thank you again for your time. And, once more, I'm glad that you're healthy. I hope you have not encountered too much trouble in Tokyo."

"No trouble at all," she lied through her teeth. "I'm actually quite happy with my job."

"I see. And what is that, if I may ask?"

Kyoko smiled. "I'm an actress. I played Mio in Dark Moon, and I also have a role in Box-R."

Kato-san's eyes widened. "You know… I can easily see that."

*

When he was gone, Kyoko sat in the office for a long time, teacup in her hands. Her reflection was serene, but only because she put so much conscious effort into keeping her temper in check. Her first instinct was to go, grudges ablaze, and demand an explanation from the Fuwas, but she had learned from her previous experience that it wouldn't go well.

But what else could she do?

There were too many feelings, too many conflicted emotions, that she was paralyzed. She desperately needed to let some steam out, yet she had no idea whom to turn to.

And then she remembered that she had forgotten to call Tsuruga-san.

For a minute, she thought about dismissing him, but even in her depressed state, that wasn't an option. She thought about what might have happened in her absence, and with visions of blood and death on her mind, she dialed his number.

Nobody had died, but the tone of his voice and his hinting at problems had sealed the deal for her. When Setsuie ventured into the office, Kyoko was on her feet, gathering the papers Kato-san had left her.

"Kyoko-chan," Sho's mother began, but the younger woman cut her off.

"Fuwa-san, I'm sorry, it seems that I have to cut my visit short," Kyoko said, bowing curtly. "There's some trouble at work which requires my immediate return."

She was already calculating her route. Thankfully, most of the things were still packed – all she had to do was slip out of her uniform and throw something on. She could spring for a cab, and catch the three o'clock train. She could change into her Setsu gear in the bathroom.

Sho's mother followed her as she walked briskly to the living quarters.

"Kyoko-chan, please, let me explain," she said. Kyoko didn't think she had heard Sho's mother sound so desperate. Pausing at the threshold of her room, she turned and face the older woman head on.

"I will give you some advice, and I hope that you will take it – be persistent, when calling Sho. He will eventually pick up, and he will eventually listen. I wish I could help you, but I cannot stay."

"Why? Because of what that man said?"

"No. Right now, there is somebody else who needs me," Kyoko said, her eyes darkening. "And this time, it's really a matter of life and death."

Melodramatic? Yes. But it did get the job done. Thirty minutes later, she was on the train.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skip Beat! belongs to Nakamura-sensei. Perfect Fifths, and the rest of the Jessica Darling books belong to Megan McCafferty. Those of you who have read it, you will know which scene I lifted for this chapter. Those of you who don't... I hope it's incentive for you to pick up that series. :)
> 
> And yes, I believe wholeheartedly that this scene belongs here. 
> 
> And yes, I stand by what I said in 2013 - in my mind, Kyoko would totally do that.
> 
> Enjoy.

There were a lot of things Kyoko loved about being an actress – not least of which was princess make-up – but if she had to pick one at that precise moment, it was how she could immerse herself into a role so deeply she would forget everything else.

With such thoughts in her head, she donned her Setsu gear in the bathroom. She imagined herself as a knight, putting on his suit of armor before riding into battle, and every piece of her disguise – clothes, wig, piercings – hid her vulnerable heart. It wasn't as good as the locks on her heart, but those things were flimsy – she needed some substitute, at least for now.

Yet, when she assessed herself in the bathroom mirror, she could already tell that there was a crack in her façade. Maybe it would heal when she saw her brother, but there was something stopping her from becoming Setsu fully. A small envelope, tucked into her pocket.

She returned to her seat. A few boys called after her, but she paid them no heed. She dropped her chin on her fist and looked out, her thoughts running in pace with the train.

Her mother was dead.

She remembered all the times her mother had made her cry, and decided that she wasn't ready about that particular retrospective.

She was rich.

Kyoko recalled the sum Kato-san had quoted to her, and tried imagining what she could do with it. The sheer amount of cosmetics she could now afford was overwhelming, but at the same time, she knew that she would never be able to use them up, even if she lived a hundred lifetimes. Perhaps she could give some to Moko-san, but her friend would kill her if she tried.

That thought was too horrible to bear, so she moved away from the topic.

The Fuwas had lied to her.

They'd lied to her.

The whole family had screwed her over, only it was a hundred time worse now. With Sho, she had known on some level that he was using her, but she had clung onto him because she'd thought, stupidly, that goodness paid off. His parents, though, had raised her like an obedient servant, so that when she married their son, they'd be able to use her money freely. They'd tried cheating her of something she didn't even know she possessed, and didn't even bother hiding how they used their love as leverage.

It hurt. It hurt so much.

Kyoko took a deep breath and thought about Tsuruga-san instead. No. About Cain Heel. Her brother, who she adored. Her brother, who had this tendency to get into fights, and then cuddle her throughout the night. She wondered if he wanted to do that. It wasn't something she minded, though at this moment, she was a little leery of people being affectionate with her.

Stop it. It's different. He's your brother. He's your sempai. He's in love with someone else. His intentions are good.

But were they? Kyoko thought back, to that disastrous party where she'd let Kijima-san dress her, and then further on, to the Valentine's Day when Sho had all but molested her. Tsuruga-san had told to keep her actor's heart "pure", to reject the advances of other men, yet he had no qualms about hanging onto her like a piece of driftwood when it suited his purposes.

But he really needs me. He is genuinely scared.

So what?

"So what?" she repeated out loud, causing some people nearby to scowl at her.

Tsuruga Ren was a man she greatly respected, but he definitely didn't act like he respected her. He was angry with her for things she had no control over, he kept secrets even when they affected her directly, and he told her how to act around men while he had no trouble using women to his advantage. The hypocrisy of the whole thing was so blatant, she couldn't understand why she hadn't noticed it before.

This is the anger talking, the fairies said. He's not who you're angry at.

Yeah, well… that didn't make him less of a hypocrite, Kyoko thought. And yet, what does that make me, if I run to him nonetheless?

Everything was so complicated.

The train got to the outer limits of Tokyo, and she shifted a little in her seat. A rustle reminded her of her mother's letter, sitting like a bomb in her pocket. She reached out for it, tracing the edges carefully. Could she read it? Should she read it?

The station was coming up. There was no time. She rose and grabbed her bag, and darted for the exit as soon as the doors opened.

Ren stood in the waiting room in his full Cain Heel glory, feigning nonchalance and failing miserably. Kyoko's train was delayed, and he was getting antsy. What would be in character of him to do? Wait, or go look for her?

Then she breezed in and he relaxed. She was back. Everything was alright.

She walked up to him, until she was within his reach, and stopped. She didn't reach out to hug him, and he didn't do anything either, not knowing what was appropriate to do. Was he Cain or Ren? Was she Kyoko or Setsu?

"I'm back," she said, and threw her bag at him.

He caught it effortlessly, and then smiled.

"Welcome."

*

Once outside, they took the subway to the hotel. He kept sneaking glances at her, but her face betrayed nothing. Was this Setsu-like? Perhaps she would sulk but she seemed a little too pensive.

"So what happened in Kyoto?"

"I don't want to talk about it. What happened on the shoot?"

"I don't want to talk about it." He looked at the adverts flying across the screens. "Not yet, anyway," he said.

"Whatever," she said. "As long as you're fine."

He caught her eyes in the glass, and for a moment, he was struck by their intensity. There was definitely something there, but it wasn't her usual grumpy aura. Nor was it the particular brand of evil which she reserved for those times when he got particularly out of line with her. Her eyes were intense but… quizzical, rather than mad. Like she was trying to figure something out, but she was missing some vital information.

It annoyed him, too, because she still hadn't become Setsu, and he couldn't fully become Cain either. But he couldn't say it out loud, so he chose instead to treat her with stony silence, hoping that at some point, she would notice and do her job.

She did, and she didn't like it.

Kyoko had been working up the courage to speak to him, but she never really came up with a good conversation opener. The sheer… unbelievability of the scenario was too much to put into words, and combined with her earlier epiphany… well, it was too easy to stay quiet when he obviously didn't want to speak to her.

The only exchange they had, before going to the hotel, was on whether they needed to shop for something or not. (Ren wasn't hungry. Of course he wasn't.) Kyoko didn't object, but suspected that he hadn't set foot in the store since she left.

Those suspicions confirmed when, upon returning to the room, she checked out the kitchen area and found nothing but a jar of pickles and some apples.

"Really, you'll make yourself sick like this," she muttered under her nose, while examining the former. "Those things expired two days ago."

"I never ate those," he said, feeling surly. His resolution not to piss her off anymore was crumbling under the dual pressure of her silence and his own tension. "Really, there's no need to make a fuss when there's a perfectly good restaurant on every corner around here."

"You can't do that every night. It's expensive, and furthermore…"

"What?"

Kyoko blinked. The word expensive made a tiny pirouette around her head, and she blinked a few times to gather her thoughts back.

"It's not healthy," she said. "You don't know what they put in your meals."

"I think I can afford it," Ren said. The dismissiveness in his tone ticked her off.

"Well, it won't kill you to learn some simple things," Kyoko said, grabbing her jacket and turning on her heel. "Come on, let's go downstairs and get some ingredients. I'll show you some stuff you can make real fast."

Ren gave a long, tired sigh. The NG sign. It made her freeze up.

"What?" she asked, at length.

"Mogami-san, do you really think this is something Setsu would say to her brother?"

"No." Setsu would be absolutely thrilled to leave her brother clueless about basic kitchen operations because it made her indispensible. But she wasn't Setsu. "But she wouldn't want her brother asking another woman to do something that has only been her duty. And besides, Cain can't stay as some kind of floundering man child for the rest of his life – he has to learn some basics."

Ren's eyes widened, and she realized she had hit upon a nerve.

"I wouldn't think badly of anyone who isn't perfect at something," he said. "In fact, if Cain never learned to cook, it was probably because he never had the time to. Or, perhaps, it was because he was spoiled."

Kyoko squared her shoulders.

"Well, he can change that, can he?"

They stared each other off. Then Ren took his jacket off and turned his back to her.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To take a shower," he said. "Call room service for our dinner. You can order whatever you like."

"But…"

"Setsu, I'm tired, and you just travelled a long distance. Neither of us is in a mood for cooking, and there's no need to misuse a service that was created for just this occasion."

And he retreated to the bathroom as fast as it was humanly possible without running.

*

Kyoko stared after him, feeling a mixture of anger and frustration, both towards him and herself. She had come all the way from Kyoto to help him, and ended up antagonizing him instead.

Well, it was his fault, wasn't it? She was only trying to teach him a useful skill. Sure, she may have been a little rude, but he was a grown man, for goodness' sake. He ought to have learned.

Oh, Kyoko… it's not him you're angry at.

With a long, drawn out sigh, she sat down on her bed and ran her fingers through her wig, effectively removing it. It was no use trying to work – her head wasn't in the right place. It never would be, unless she did something about the thing that was bothering her.

Just do it, she thought, rip it out like a band-aid.

She removed the letter from her pocket and turned it in her hands. It was in her mother's handwriting, with her name printed on the front, and the date of her sixteenth birthday underneath. Taking a deep breath, she unfolded it and started reading.

_ Kyoko,_

_By the time you're reading this, you would have already learned everything. I imagine you have a lot of questions, but I haven't got much explanations to give, or apologies to offer. There are only so many things in life that we can help, and what has happened to me is not one of them._

_You are sixteen now. You may leave school and start work, or even get married at that age. I hope you will not – education is very well worth it, and the money you have access to should enable you to get a very good one, if all else fails._

_There is one aspect I should probably talk to you about. If you have seen your birth certificate, you will find the name of your father, as well as his contact information at the time of this writing. You will no doubt want to find him – I hope you will not. If there is one piece of advice I can offer you, it is to let this particular ghost rest. There were things about my life that I'm not proud of, and I know from experience that it's better sometimes to avoid things rather than face them head on._

_Be safe,_

_Your mother _

Her hands were shaking so bad that the signature blurred. Then she felt the tears on her face, and her breath caught, and suddenly she was bawling. Like a child scolded for the first time, like a baby's first cry into this world.

*

Ren stood under the spray of the shower, quietly beating his head against the tile. Why, why, why, why was he such an idiot? First that thing with Murasame, then antagonizing Kyoko. Couldn't he do anything right?

His watch was on the sink, mocking him quietly. He shut his eyes, but the image had imprinted on the back of his lids, making it impossible for him to distract himself.

Katsuki, Black Jack, Kyoko… he'd started these things in the hopes of becoming a better actor, yet he failed so epically at it. There was no way for him to keep a muzzle on Kuon, and in fact, things seemed to be getting worse, if he was unable to even have a conversation with the woman he loved without blowing up in her face.

Perhaps it was time to put an end to things. Perhaps he was never meant to face his mother and father proudly, without cameras or personas to hide behind.

It was too late anyway. He had less than two months.

A horrible scenario, yet this was his reality. He was failing, and there was no way for him to reach out for help.

Such were his thoughts, and he could have easily let the darkness consume him – after all, it was easy enough. It was like falling asleep in the snow – he could just close his eyes and never wake up. And then he heard it – loud and clear, even through the haze of his self-loathing and the walls surrounding him – a sobbing. It wasn't just a cry – it was a scream of torture. And it was coming from his room.

Kyoko.

He stumbled out of the shower, not even bothering to turn it off, and rushed out of the bathroom to find her doubled over on the bed, arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together, and bawling inconsolably.

The sight paralyzed him.

"Mogami-san… Kyoko…" he began, but she paid him no heed. She tried, a few times, to pull herself together, but then another sob tore through her and she was crying again.

Not knowing what to do, he knelt down and placed his arms on her shoulders. "Kyoko, are you alright? Are you hurt? Look at me, please."

"N… Not hurt…" she managed, but barely. Her whole body was shaking.

"What is it then? Are you sick?" A horrible thought occurred to him. "Is it because of what I said?"

She shook her head furiously. With a monumental effort, she met his eyes and said:

"My mother is dead. I learned it in Kyoto." The sheer effort it took her to keep her composure was heartbreaking. It took him a while to process what she had said.

And he felt like a monster.

"I am so sorry," he said. "Forgive me, I had no idea."

She wiped at her eyes, but it was in vain. The tears just kept coming along.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's probably stupid, since we weren't so close…"

"Never say that." And then he did something he had only allowed himself twice – he reached out and wrapped his arms around her. She welcomed his embrace, burying her face in the crook of his neck and breathing deeply. "I'm so sorry. I should have never called you like that," he said.

She shook her head. "She's been dead for years. Cancer. But I just learned it, and… and the people who raised me… they lied to me. They never said a word." That proved to be too much for her, and she started crying all over again. This time, however, he was there to comfort her. When the sobs wracked her body, his arms steadied it, and little by little, she calmed down.

And, miracle of miracles, she didn't pull away as soon as that happened. For a while, they stood like that, on their knees, with him holding her and her letting him. For once, Ren's mind was completely on her. Carefully, like the smallest touch might spook her, he lifted one hand and caressed her hair.

"I'm sorry," he said, not knowing how to approach this. "I should have never spoken to you the way I did."

"You didn't know."

"That doesn't make it better." He turned a little so that he could look at her eyes. She lifted her head. "I'm sorry. What I said was out of line and cruel. I had no right to treat you like this, ever."

For a long moment, she stared at him. She nodded.

"Thank you, then, for admitting this."

Sighing, she let her head drop again. "Do you know what the really weird part is?"

"No. Tell me."

"I never thought I would want to see her again. I never fantasized about telling her off, like I did for you or Sho." Ren smiled at that. "I didn't want to revisit this part of my life, ever. But now that I can't… I feel bad. There's suddenly so many things I want to say, and the fact that I can't—" she blinked a few times to dispel the tears that threatened to flow again "—it's frustrating."

Ren nodded, distractedly. He was shocked, in a way, at the similarities between the two of them. Moreover, if his father hadn't come to Japan, it was likely that he would have learned of his own mother's illness in the same manner – told by strangers, maybe years after the fact, or worse, hearing it announced on television.

"I'm sorry," he said, for her sake as well as his own. It felt like his heart might break under the weight of this tragedy.

Kyoko nodded and sat back on her heels.

"Thank you," she said. "For listening to me and… everything. Thank you."

"That's what friends are for," he said. "We are friends, aren't we?"

"Yeah. Friends," she said, then smirked. "Although I don't think friends usually see so much of each other, do you?"

Ren blinked, not knowing what she was talking about. Then he looked down on himself, and winced.

Of course. He was stark naked.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! This is a fan work for fun only.
> 
> This is also a reposting. I'm a doofus who lost both password and email address for my other account.

Ever the tactful lady, Kyoko went to the bathroom to turn off the shower, giving Ren some privacy. It made him feel immensely grateful, and a little bit ashamed – she'd been the one needing comfort, and once again she'd taken his feelings into consideration.

But, oddly enough, that didn't send him into a depressing spiral. If anything, it made him even more determined to finally change his ways.

She reemerged with his watching her hand.

"Here," she said. "You should really change its battery. It's been frozen like this ever since our first night here."

Was that a subtle hint for him? No. She seemed sincere.

Still, it was a good time for him to make good on his resolutions.

"It's meant to be like this," he said, wrapping the harness around his wrist.

"It's meant not to show time?"

"No. It's meant to remind me of something." He hesitated. "It's a really long story, and not really appropriate for the current moment. I… ah… I apologize for my state a while ago, once again. I really didn't think."

"That's fine," she said.

She really has changed, Ren thought, and it was true. It wasn't just how she held herself, although she seemed to wear Setsu's clothes like she owed them. It was her whole air – she seemed a lot more at ease in her skin, and calmer.

And then, most tellingly, she didn't get mad at him.

"Still, it was very unprofessional on my part," he said.

She smiled. "Now who's breaking character? Would Cain care for things like clothes, if he thought Setsu was in trouble?"

"No. I suppose not."

They laughed, and then silence descended. There was some tension left in the air, an anticipation of sorts, but for once, it was of the good kind.

The stare down was interrupted when someone knocked on the door.

"And that would be our dinner," he said, reaching for his wallet. "Why don't you get some plates out while I pay?"

She nodded, and complied. Just like that – no arguments over wasting money, no fretting over bothering other people. He couldn't tell if she was too tired for that, or if she genuinely didn't care.

Once she got a good whiff of what he had ordered, though, she immediately perked up.

"Are those egg hamburgers?" she asked. "It's my favorite."

"I know." He coughed, trying to hide his embarrassment. "I thought that, with everything going on, that I owed you a treat."

"You don't have to go so far," she said. "But thank you. That's really nice on your part."

Ren nodded and helped her serve. Eating on a tiny table was going to prove tricky, but it was worth it. He couldn't even remember when they had last shared a meal together. Which reminded him…

"About what you said earlier… you were right. About teaching Cain to cook a little. He might have been spoiled, but that doesn't mean that he cannot change. It was a good call, Kyoko."

She froze at the sound of her name, and stared at him. Realizing his slip, he tried to cover it up.

"I mean Setsu."

"That's fine. I don't think I have the strength to do much tonight," she said, while cutting her hamburger in pieces.

"Tomorrow, then. I have a feeling that we might have a lot of free time on our hands," he said. As much as he hated saying it, there were things that he had to clear up, and they couldn't wait.

Kyoko set her utensils down. "What happened today?"

Keeping things as factual as possible, Ren told her – about Murasame's antagonism, the drugs, the "surprise" police raid and his handling of the situation. He made sure to maintain a calm, reassuring air, like the detectives he so often played, but some of his frustration must have slipped through, because she frowned.

"But you're clean. Surely, the director cannot fire you then."

"Things are a lot more complicated than that," Ren said, sighing. "I wish this was the first time I've seen this, but it's not, and I just can't be optimistic."

"Why? If you didn't do it…"

"Scandals can sometimes make or break a production," he said. "If handled properly, they can add a little intrigue and even create a sort of urban legend around the movie. But this is what my character was doing already – Cain Heel is, essentially, so much like Black Jack it's as if he's being typecast. Too many scandals, though, and it's overkill.

"Yes, I'm clean. But the police take drug charges very seriously, and they will need to arrest someone soon. And I'm the most convenient scapegoat."

She was silent for a long time.

"Does the President know about this?" she asked.

"Yes. He sent me a message that he wants to see me in the morning."

"Then I'll come with you."

"You don't have to. Technically, you're on vacation until tomorrow afternoon."

"That doesn't matter," she said. "This is a very important project, and the President entrusted me to look after you. Whether or not I'm responsible for what happened, I am part of this and I need to be there, as your kouhai and your sister."

Ren opened his mouth to argue, then stopped. The truth was that he wanted her there. Having her nearby was calming, even if the conversation he was to have with the President was anything but. So he just bowed his head in thanks.

They finished their dinner in silence. Afterwards, he helped her wash the dishes and set the apartment in order while she went about her evening rituals, and trying to relax. He was sleeping alone tonight, there was no doubt about it, and given the day he had, his dreams were bound to be scary. He just hoped that he might make it through the night without scaring Kyoko senseless.

*

Then she emerged from the bathroom, wig in place, clad in pajamas. This time, it was easy for him to slip into character.

"When does Boss arrive?" she asked.

"Early. So it'll be good for you to go to sleep."

She nodded and snuck under her covers. Then, as he was contemplating his own empty bed, she scooted further inside until she was pressed against the wall, and then held her hand out to him. The expression on her face, defiant, yet vulnerable, was nearly his undoing, but not so much as for him to ignore the significance of the gesture.

Kyoko never initiated any of their closer encounters, not unless he was near catatonic. He thought he knew how much she changed, but it wasn't until that moment that he really started to realize it.

Taking her hand, he slipped under the duvet and rearranged himself so that there was a little space between them. Kyoko made no mention of it – she was out as soon as her head hit the pillow. But, five minutes later, she moved on her own volition, rolling over so that she lay across his chest.

He froze, hands out, torn between embracing her and keeping things chaste. Eventually, Kuon won over, and he let himself relax. She shifted a little, made a tiny sound of contentment, and smiled.

I won't be getting a wink of sleep tonight, he thought as his hand caressed her back. He marveled how it rose and fell in time with each breath, like it was the most amazing thing in the world. He could probably spend years just watching her, studying those simple things.

And, as the minutes ticked by, he felt just the tiniest bit jealous of her peace of mind. Even if she was becoming disillusioned with the world, she wasn't nearly as bitter or as jaded as him. He couldn't even remember a time when he was this innocent.

Then his thoughts went on his current situation, and he felt a pang deep within his heart. He hadn't lied to her when he said that things were really serious. He couldn't let things progress to the point of an official enquiry – it would come to light that Cain Heel was an act, that Tsuruga Ren was an act, and that would unearth ghosts that were too private to reveal to the public. But what could he do? It was already out of his hands.

No. He couldn't afford this defeatist line of thinking. Way too much was in stake for him to give up now.

But… if he was to keep fighting, he had to reveal more things to Kyoko. Secrets he hadn't even told Yashiro, or the President. Neither of his two closest friends knew the full extent of his self-loathing, nor the depth of the problem, but if he was to overcome it, he had to start sharing.

As if sensing his resolution, Kyoko tightened her grip on him and gave a little sigh. It was probably the only encouragement he was going to get, Ren thought before drifting off.

*

In the morning, he started making good on his resolution as soon as both of them were dressed. She was making coffee, perfectly in character, but immediately reverted when he spoke to her in Japanese.

"Mogami-san," he said, wincing a little at the formality of it, "I was wondering… about the meeting with the President… you really don't have to go there."

"I told you, I'm going," she said, firmly. "I keep to my promises, sempai."

"I know. I never said you wouldn't. However, it's going to be a very grueling conversation. You should know that."

"Sempai, look at me." He did. "Do you trust me?"

"It's not a matter of trust," he muttered.

"It is to me," she said. "I won't tell your secrets to anyone, I swear it. But that's all moot if you don't trust me."

Ren sighed. Of course, as usual, she completely disarmed him.

"I understand that. I'm sorry if I came off as presumptuous," he said. "However, if you're coming, there is something I must tell you first."

She set the coffee pot aside and sat down, giving him her full attention. He took a deep breath – what he was about to say demanded some serious navigating.

"I told you last night about the implications of… this situation. But I didn't tell you that this current role is of some personal significance for me. I think it's important for you to know this, both to understand my actions and to be prepared in the eventuality that… everything comes to light."

She nodded.

"You might have heard the President comment on my… limited acting range. He's right. I stayed away from antagonist roles, as well as projects with a heavy romantic angle. I had a very… problematic youth. I did a lot of things I'm not proud of, and those kinds of projects reminded me of those times.

"These events from my past have put me in odds with my family, and myself. My parents, though supportive, made it very difficult for me to move on, so I decided to distance myself from them. I… haven't been able to face them, properly, in five years. And recently… I was told that my mother was gravely ill."

Kyoko was leaning in, and one of her arms was reaching out to him, tentatively. He met her halfway, and she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"You might find it ironic," he said. "I can hardly believe it myself, but… last night, when you told me about what you discovered, I was struck at how similar we were, in this aspect."

"You mean she's…" The thought was too horrible to finish.

"She doesn't have a chance at recovery." There. He said it. The words dug into his heart like shrapnel. "And she was very anxious to see me. I still cannot forget the things I have done, but learning this has made me determined to face those problems, so that I can see my parents once more. This is what this project is about, and this is why it was so important to me."

She swallowed. "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you," he smiled. "Though there's little that can be done about it now, I wanted you to know that… your being here has helped me. If it hadn't been for you, I might have given up. Or worse."

"It's not over yet," she said, determined. "You can still do something."

"I don't know if there's anything left."

"I do. There is. There has to be."

How naïve. And yet, just seeing her determination made him feel like his heart had grown three sizes. Just then, his phone chirped, announcing the President's arrival. Kyoko looked down on it.

"Well," she said, "I guess we might as well go."

Ren stood up, and, in a fit of spontaneity, pulled her closer and enveloped her in a hug.

"Thank you," he said. "For listening and… everything."

She didn't answer. If he had looked down, he would have seen her blushing like a tomato.

*

Lori's instructions were brief and to the point – Ren was not to engage with Murasame in any way, or attempt anything to aid the police investigation. As Cain Heel was not to leave the city, Ren would have to stay in disguise until the end of the official enquiry. The PR office had already fabricated a cover story that got Ren Tsuruga out of the country on business, and Yashiro was on his way to a flight with a stunt-double, in case anyone was keeping tabs on Japan's top actor.

The President offered Kyoko the option of taking on her usual duties, but she refused. Box R had stopped shooting for now, and there weren't any pressing projects that needed her attention. Reorganizing her schedule was easier than Ren's.

If the Lori thought anything unusual about her change of heart, or her early arrival for that matter, he didn't say anything. Instead, he thanked her for all her hard work, and ordered the two of them to act as inconspicuous as possible.

"Right now, the whole thing hinges on whether the police believe you or not," he said. "Don't do anything that might damage your credibility."

He didn't say that the likelihood of the police believing him was small to begin with – all three of them knew that. But while Ren met the instructions with resignation, and the President faced the incoming days with a grim sort of acceptance, Kyoko was already planning things in her head.

Her sempai was innocent. And even if he couldn't personally interfere in the police investigation, that didn't mean someone else couldn't lend them a hand. Somebody who just happened to have the contacts and the means to discover the truth.

In her jacket pocket, her hand tightened around Kato-san's business card.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! This is a fan work, for fun only.
> 
> This is also a reposting. Original, flaws and all, can be read via the link in my bio. I'm putting it here because I was a doofus.

The next three days were fine, or as fine as they could be when two people pretended to be baka-siblings, and one of them was being investigated for possession.

Ren, for his part, enjoyed the anonymity as much as he could. There were benefits to the situation, obviously, like taking the girl he loved to a restaurant or shopping, but they tended to gather just a little too much attention. Most of the time going out was nerve-wracking, so they ended up staying in rather than going out.

As it turned out, those were the best times.

They would get groceries, then Kyoko would show him how to make a simple dish. On the next meal, it was his turn to try and cook. It actually wasn't that bad, if he could ask her about any of the tricky bits. Then they would settle with a movie or three, alternating between running a commentary and being struck speechless by some of the scenes. And, of course, there was that one time when he tricked her into seeing a horror movie, and she spent the rest of the night lashing out whenever he spooked her.

And, perhaps the most significant change of all, once they had completed their evening rituals, they would get in one of the beds and curl up together. Neither tried to fight it anymore – they had separated the first night, but, after being unable to sleep, Kyoko had simply migrated, pillow in hand, to Ren's waiting arms. In the morning, they acted as if waking up together was nothing out of the ordinary, and then just kept up the arrangement, quietly accepting that it was the only way to keep the nightmares at bay.

That wasn't to say that Kyoko didn't think about it – on the contrary, her mind was all too happy to jump down that road whenever she had a free moment.

Oddly enough, something that would have sent her into a downright existential crisis once had lost its teeth. Perhaps it was her determination to help her sempai in any way she could, perhaps it was her mind being filled with bigger problems, but she could no longer make a big deal of something that was, essentially, offering comfort to another human being. There was nothing shameful in it, and if someone thought differently, then that didn't concern her.

Except… there was one little thing.

There were times… and she was almost sure she imagined it, but she did catch Ren looking at her with that gentle gaze of his that tended to turn her insides to jelly. The expression bothered her, because it had nothing to do with Cain Heel – that was all him, and she knew it. But why would he do that?

The only explanation was that he was thinking about this other girl – the schoolgirl he was besotted with, and whom he could not make a move on because of his crippling self-loathing. His dilemma made her heart bleed – not just for him, but for herself.

Because if he was truly thinking about this girl, it was very likely that he was using her, Kyoko, as a stand-in.

And it hurt. That last lock on her heart was hanging by a thread, and she could barely muster the energy to reinforce those walls she built so long ago. The heartache of rejection was inevitable – so much so that she could already feel the wound opening.

She couldn't stop the tragedy from happening, she couldn't turn away. The only thing left was to just floor it and get it over with as fast as possible.

Which was why, early on Monday, she was up making breakfast and practicing her lines under her breath.

"Good morning, sempai, I hope you slept well… no, that's not right. Good morning, Nii-san…. No… Hey, Ren-sempai…"

"I like the last one," he said, making her yelp and whirl around, knocking a pot in the process. Once both had apologized and he helped her clean up, he went on, "You know, it's odd. We've been spending so much time together, yet when we're not in character we refer to each other by surname."

Yes, Kyoko thought, they were "friends", after all. In fact, they were more than friends, given that she spilled her guts to him at every occasion, and that she'd seen him in a… well, in less than it was publically acceptable.

"People don't know that, though," she said. "They would surely jump to conclusions."

Ren winced. "Yes. And we don't want that to happen."

"Misunderstandings can be tricky to manage. Which is why… Um, sempai, I need to talk to you about something."

He raised an eyebrow. "On one condition."

"What is it?"

"You start calling me by my given name… in private, of course."

"Alright. Sempai…"

"Ren."

"Ren-sempai, this is really important and I would really appreciate it if you didn't interrupt me." He raised his hands in surrender and sat down. "It's about this investigation. You know… and the President told us… that there's nothing we can do but wait. Is that right?"

"Unfortunately."

She took a deep breath. "What if I told you there was something that could be done?"

Ren narrowed his eyes. His first instinct, of course, was to say he'd take it, no questions asked. But the way she asked him made him pause.

"I don't want to inconvenience you in any way," he said. "And you shouldn't get involved directly into this."

She smiled humorlessly. "It's a little too late for that, don't you think? If Cain Heel goes under a serious police check, then so would Setsuka."

Humbled, he nodded. Kyoko went on:

"There might be something that we could do. Not to influence the investigation directly, but it might help." She wasn't sure she had understood completely what Kato-san had told her, but so far, the lawyer had been nothing but correct, so she chose to accept what he said and hope for the best.

And speaking of…

"I don't understand," Ren was saying. "Kyoko, I understand your motivation to help clear Cain's name, but the way things are right now, you can still get out unscathed. You never perpetuated any crimes, and as for the drug charges, you can deny them easily. But if the police realize you tried helping me, they can assume you knew from the start, and then they will slap you with a charge for enabling faster than you can blink."

"I know that," she said. Oddly enough, saying it calmed her down. "I understand what the dangers are. But what if the police learn I'm here without permission from my guardians? Right now, I'm just as interested in saving Setsu as you are in Cain."

Ren sighed. "I understand. I just… I wish there was a way I could take this fall by myself, without dragging you along."

"You can't," she said, firmly. "You might as well get used to it."

That brought a smile on his face. A small one, but still a smile. It encouraged her for what she was about to say next.

"There is something we can do, but we have to act fast. Today, if possible. And… you need to trust me."

*

Takarada Lori was in a sour mood, and even the costumes couldn't make things better. How could they? There was no "Breaking-bad-news-to-your-best-friend" suit, was there?

He'd waited for three days, barely restraining himself from crowing with annoyance. Of course, Ren's secret identity prevented him from directly enquiring, but Konoe had kept him posted about the police investigation, and his updates were less than promising. From what he could gather, the only thing slower than Tokyo's finest on this case was a snail.

A snail in a desert.

Basically, things were in the shits.

He didn't relish what he was about to do, but Kuu had to learn sooner or later, and even if sooner was not better than later, it would be slightly less horrible if it came from someone he knew.

"He WHAT?"

Lori winced. "Thank you, Kuu, I really didn't need that eardrum. You heard me – someone framed him for possession."

On the other side of the world, Hizuri Kuu let out a stream of curses… quietly. After making sure he hadn't woken his wife, he hurried to the other side of the house. "How's the investigation going?"

"How do you think?"

"Slower than the public transport on a rainy day?"

"Exactly."

"Damn it. This is going to kill Julie." Kuu rested his head against the wall. "How's he handling things?"

"Pretty well, all things considered. He didn't beat up the guy who he thought was responsible, even though he would have been fully justified in doing so."

"If I was there, I would not only let him do it, I'd hold his coat for him," Kuu said.

"Don't go changing his mind. The girl's with him, so she's been keeping him sane."

"How is she?"

"Pretty much kicking ass as a bully, and then kicking his ass when he wallows. I saw them on Friday – he looked more serious than ever, if that's even possible. She grounds him, Kuu."

The younger man sighed. "This is all my fault, Boss. If I hadn't been so focused on my career… if only we had more time to spend with him… we would have seen it. We would have prevented it."

"No use crying over spilled milk, Kuu," Lori said, while looking out at the Tokyo skyline. "Believe me, I know that better than anyone."

"I know. I just… nevermind. I'll do my best to spare Julie, but… Boss, we have to prepare for the worst. If he's under investigation, he may not be able to travel here, and…"

"I know. I know. I'm sorry." Takarada hesitated. "Look, Kuu… don't blame yourself. Or at least try not to heap too much of it on your shoulders. All of us had a role to play in this."

There was a long pause. Then the other actor said, "Alright," and hung up.

Takarada sighed and put the phone down. As he did so, his eyes slid over the pictures on his desk – Kouki, his wife, and Maria, he and his wife, a snapshot of Kuu and Julie before Ren was born… there used to be more, but he couldn't bear to have all of them up. Those smiles that once warmed his heart and got him through the worst of days were accusing him now.

So many mistakes… if he started counting them now, how many sins would he find? Enough to guarantee that he was reborn as a dung beetle in the next life, that was for sure.

Parents and children… it was so ironic that he of all people would be insisting on Ren to go back to see his parents when Takarada and his son hadn't been able to speak to each other for a full ten years after his wife's death.

And that was definitely Lori's fault.

The intercom buzzed, and the secretary told him his ten o'clock meeting was here. Takarada pulled himself together. There was no time for this. He had a company to run. Trips down to "What If" land weren't going to make things better.

*

Asakura Yoshi was used to working for weirdos. Rich people tended to be like that, and his friend Kato only had rich customers. Rich, bored customers who either needed proof to get a big allowance from a cheating spouse, or to have said proof destroyed. His life was pretty much spent staking out in front of cheap motels.

So he wasn't that surprised when a punk-rock princess and her boyfriend approached him in the park. Kato hadn't described Setsuka Heel as anything other than "intense", and the girl fit that to a T. She and her cohort barely said a word until he led them to his van. Once there, she explained the situation to him in more detail.

"So you're saying your brother was framed, but the police are dragging their feet?" Yoshi summarized. "Are you sure about that?"

Then man spoke for the first time. "I'm clean."

He didn't look it, but it wasn't his job to ask. "Alright. Well… I told Kato what I can do. I can't promise it will work, but it's the only thing we can do in order to offer the police a lead without making it seem too… on the nose. How much did he tell you about this?"

"He said the police make background checks on everyone involved in a case," Setsuka said. "And that they investigate those who seem suspicious, even if the cases seem unrelated. He also said that if an investigation was run on Murasame, the police would question him a little bit more about my brother's case."

"Precisely. Now, you mentioned that he was a gangster when he was young, but the problem is that all of his crimes were committed before he was seventeen. Upon completing his time in juvie, those records were sealed away and his public record was wiped. That's standard procedure," Kato said, slowly. "So far, he's kept himself out of the fire. However, you mentioned he was… a little inappropriate with you once?"

She pursed her lips. "I wouldn't call it that, but he was definitely hostile."

"A sexual harassment investigation would be more than enough. Trouble is, those cases are very hard to prove, and without proof, the case might not even be considered. Does that make sense?"

She nodded. "So we need proof."

"Exactly. This is where I come in."

Yoshi dropped Setsuka off a block away from the studios, then parked the van directly behind the building. The mike he'd hooked under her jacket was pretty good, but it was better to stay as close to her as possible in case something went wrong and they had to use a back-up device.

Her brother hadn't said a word.

Keeping a year out to know when to start the recording, Yoshi decided to chat him up.

"So why does this Murasame guy have it out for you?"

"I don't know."

Helpful.

"Could it be that you provoked him in some way?"

"I told him to stay away from my sister."

Yoshi glanced at him again, raising an eyebrow. His sister… yeah, the first time he'd heard it, he hadn't believed it. He still didn't. The way those two held themselves, the way they interacted… it was weird. He imagined him acting like that with one of his sisters, and shuddered in disgust. Absolutely not.

"Short fuse, huh?" He didn't know whom he said this about. Both men seemed to fit the bill.

Just then, he heard Setsuka's voice, and another man's. Given how Cain tensed up, Yoshi guessed it was Murasame.

"…doing here?"

"I came to pick up the revised script," Setsuka said.

"You're awfully confident. What makes you think your brother's coming back here at all?" The man sounded cocky. Yoshi imagined him as good-looking, probably like some teen idol. He knew the type – the self-assured little asswipes who thought they were above and beyond everyone. He hated them more than the rich cuckolds he worked for – at least the cuckolds knew they sucked and didn't try to hide it.

"He's coming back," Setsuka said simply.

"Hey, wait a minute. Wait, I said. Don't pretend like you can just ignore me."

Silence, as if Setsuka was saying "Why not?"

"Your brother's a criminal. I know it's tough to hear, but you might as well get used to it right now. If you're smart, you'll stop defending him and try putting some distance between the two of you."

More silence. Yoshi winced – haughty looks were very expressive, but they didn't translate well on a voice-recording. She had to start talking, stat.

Luckily, she did.

"And by putting some distance, I imagine you mean closer to you?" she said.

"Why not? I can show you some good times."

"You wish."

A sound made Yoshi look up. Cain was leaning closer, listening to what she was saying. He was smiling, almost as if saying "That's my girl". Creep.

Meanwhile, Murasame was getting fired up.

"Are you denying it? He's a criminal. A freak. How do you justify something like that?"

"He's my brother. I know him better than anyone. He's not the criminal the police are looking for."

"Oh yeah? Were you temporary blind the other week? Did you not see what he did in the studio?"

"From what I heard, half of it was your doing. And those men were stupid to get mixed up in something which is not even their fight."

Murasame sputtered. "You're insane. Both of you are."

"Is that why you hate us? Because we're not like you?"

"I don't hate you specifically. But your brother is evil. He has to be stopped, and the police will do good to put him behind bars, once and for all."

Yoshi sat up straighter. Things were escalating. He could feel it. Setsuka could too, because the next thing she said was spot on.

"Even if he didn't do anything? Even if he hadn't smuggled those drugs in?"

"Even then."

There was a long silence. Then she said:

"You're sick."

Murasame laughed. From the corner of his eye, Yoshi saw Ren tense.

"Well isn't that just the pot calling the kettle black. If you think that the world's all rainbows and fairness, you're very wrong, little girl. Whatever happens to your brother, he did it himself. You should really find someone else to hang out with. What do you say? My offer still stands."

"Not interested."

"I can persuade you otherwise."

Yoshi's eyes widened. He wished he'd given her some kind of a two-way transmitter. They had what they needed, she had to get out. Hell, the sound of voices would have been enough to discourage that guy from doing anything funny. But she hadn't moved.

Next to him, Cain heel was gripping the chair, like he could barely restrain himself from bolting.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Setsuka's end, and then her voice, strained.

"Let go of me."

"I don't think so. You think you can just walk around dressed like that? It's high time you learned a few things about life, princess."

Cain was on his feet, when a loud "thack" came from the speaker, followed by a kind of weird sound, like a mouse that's been stepped on. When Setsuka's voice came next, it sent shivers down Yoshi's spine.

"Don't. Ever. Touch me. You hear?"

Murasame only groaned in pain. The next sound was of Setsuka walking away, fast. Five minutes later, she slipped inside of the van, breathing deep.

"Did you get it?" she asked. Her face was red.

Yoshi nodded. Besides him, Cain Heel was wearing an expression that was equal parts shock, excitement and admiration.

For his sister.

Sickos, Yoshi thought, the whole lot of them. He really needed to think about retirement.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! Or any of the other books/works referenced here. This is a work of fiction only.
> 
> Takes place after chapter 188.
> 
> This is a repost. See the link in my bio for the original, flaws and all.

Lori was not happy.

"What part of "stay out of it" did you not understand?" he demanded. The tone of his voice, loud and stressed out, was more surprising than his actual words. Ren had known the man almost all of his life, and yet he had never seen him truly angry.

Not that he was seeing him now, either.

Record's still unbroken then…

"This situation is beyond delicate! With your record, they can lock you away without a second's notice, and your brilliant solution is what, exactly? Putting Kyoko in a situation where she could lose more than you can imagine."

Ren didn't reply, because the President was right. What he and Kyoko had done was dangerous beyond belief, and not just for their careers. He deserved all the reprimand he got – if he had been more insistent, they wouldn't have gone through with the plan.

And yet…

And yet, at the time, it hadn't seemed so crazy. In fact, it seemed like the only way out of a life-and-death peril.

Kyoko tugged at his sleeve and motioned for him to hand over the phone. He had no doubt she could read his thoughts by the expression he was making – the shame and guilt were written as clearly as they would have been if he'd carved them in.

"President," she said, and the static from the other side quieted down immediately. "This is Mogami speaking. I'm sorry I interrupted your conversation with Tsuruga-san, but I feel I'm be the one you should be addressing."

Takarada said something, to which she replied:

"No, that's incorrect. Tsuruga-san didn't know about the plan until this morning. I organized everything on my own initiative and expense, and I take full responsibility. I realize the risks I took today, and I thought them necessary in order to protect the roles of Cain and Setsu."

More chatter. She turned the phone over in her hand and pressed the speaker button. "We can both hear you now, sir," she said.

"Good. Ren, did you hear what she said to me?"

"Yes, sir." He was glad to hear that the anger was gone from Takarada's voice. However, the tension persisted.

"Did you negotiate some confidentiality agreement with the man? Does he know your identities?"

"No, sir. He already knew Kyoko as Setsuka."

"How did that happen? Did you hire him on your own?"

"No, sir," Kyoko said. "I asked a… lawyer, Kato-san, to arrange things for me. He knows my identity, but he agreed that working under a pseudonym is best. He's very discreet, and has arranged things very well. I have no complaint from him."

The President hummed, but Ren threw Kyoko a suspicious look. Not because of what she had said, but because of how she said it. Her answers came readily, they were clear, concise, and absolutely satisfying. Almost as if she had practiced them.

"And you think that this detective can tip the scales in your favor?" Takarada went on.

"If not him, then the recording definitely will," Ren said. He couldn't imagine the police ignoring something as clear as that. "I hope that director Konoe will contact us soon to tell us that the filming is back on schedule."

The President grunted.

"Fine, then," he said. "If all goes well, we should all consider ourselves very lucky. Make no mistake – you two could still blow your cover, so you need to be extra vigilant. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Mogami-san, can you put me off speaker phone, please? I need to have a word with Ren in private."

She frowned the tiniest of frowns, like a fracture in a wine glass, but did as she was told, and then went into the bedroom to give Ren a modicum of privacy.

"Yes?" he asked, still looking after her. Perhaps, once this was over, he could talk to her. He wasn't sure what about, but her silence bothered him.

"You need to call your father."

That made him tense up immediately.

"Has anything happened?"

"No. But… I told him what happened with Murasame and he was worried."

"I can't imagine why." Ren sighed and closed his eyes, imagining how that conversation might go. "I'm surprised he hasn't taken the first plane here."

"If you don't call him, he might as well do it, along with your mother. Both of them worry, Ren. You can't expect me not to tell them something like that."

"I know. I understand." He took a deep breath. "Thank you. I wouldn't have them hear it from anyone other than you."

"They'd be much happier if you called them to say how things are." There was a snap from the other end of the line, and then the sound of someone blowing cigar smoke. "How did Kyoko pay for that detective? Really?"

"She got this lawyer to do things for her."

"I didn't know she had one."

"She didn't know either. He sought her out in Kyoto. Apparently, her mother made provisions for her, but her guardians didn't give this Kato-san her knew address."

"Provisions? What happened?"

"She died," Ren said quietly. "Eight years ago. Kyoko didn't know. She was very shaken up about it."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. When Takarada spoke next, his voice was weird. "And how is she doing now?"

"I honestly have no idea."

"Alright, listen here," Takarada said, "She went through an ordeal today, it's very likely she's upset, or might go into shock. Don't do anything to upset her."

"What kind of an insensitive jerk do you take me for?"

"The kind that doesn't know what he's done until it's too late. I'll see you tomorrow." And with that, he hung up.

*

Ren glared at the phone, then wandered into the bedroom. Given how small the flat was, he wouldn't have been surprised if Kyoko had heard every second of the phone conversation, but if she had, she made no mention of it.

In fact, she barely acknowledged him.

Ren took that opportunity to study her more carefully. She was sitting on a chair by the window, looking out to the city, legs crossed, cheek resting on her fist. It was a pose of casual nonchalance… for Setsu. The way she stood, the way she behaved, it was all perfectly normal for her character, but unthinkable for someone like Kyoko. Even with her recent progress, it was strange that she wouldn't immediately notice him, strange that she wouldn't show some interest in what the President had said, or exhibit some nervousness about listening in.

Slowly, he approached her, and gently touched her shoulder. "Kyoko?"

She started. "Oh… sempai… I'm sorry, I… spaced out."

"That's alright, I wasn't calling you." He noticed how she edged away a little, so that he might not touch her. Her face was very pale. "How are you feeling?"

"Who, me? Oh, I'm fine, I'm fine." Yet she sounded everything but. "Would you like to start on lunch? We're having miso soup today. I thought we could both use something lighter, so I got tofu and soba noodles and…"

"Nori. I saw. You don't seem very hungry, though."

"Oh, well…" She hesitated. "I guess not. Maybe I'm still a little nervous."

His heart clenched. Of course she was nervous. Why wouldn't she be? Murasame had attacked her. He could still remember how his whole body had tensed back there in the van. Even through the microphone, the threat in the other actor's words had been palatable. He had almost blown the cover too, thrown the whole operation to the wind and charged in the studio to her rescue, but her plea for him to trust her had held him for the few seconds it had taken her to hit Murasame and run.

What had it been like for her? He could only guess.

"Tell you what," he said, forcing as much lightness in his voice as possible, "Why don't you go and relax a little? Take a shower, or a bath. We don't have anywhere to go, and dinner can wait a little bit."

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly… There's so much to be done."

"Really? Like what?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it. After some consideration, she murmured, "I still need to make dinner."

"I think that, given how well you've been teaching me these last few days, I can manage to make the soup," he said, smiling. "I even promise not to add any seasonings in case you worry about me repeating the Maui rice incident."

She chuckled. "Do you think they have miso on Maui?"

"They could import it," Ren said, giving her his best smile. "Come on. I'll draw you a bath."

"That's alright, I can do this myself." She hesitated. "If you need any help, just knock, okay? I don't think Cain would need to burst in on his sister showering."

"No. He wouldn't dream of it."

"Alright then. Sempai… thank you."

Ren nodded, relieved. Perhaps she would feel better once she warmed up. Maybe then they could talk. Now that his role was possible again, he could resume the countdown until the time when he could see his parents again. He had a few things he needed to tell her, a few things that were very important…

But first he had miso soup to make. He glanced at the products they had laid out on the table, and felt the tiniest frisson of panic. Where would he start?

*

Kyoko sank into the water, letting it lap at her skin and warm her up. Steam rose around her. It was almost as if she was in an onsen.

Unfortunately, that immediately reminded her of the last time she'd been to a hot spring, and what had happened afterward. Stupid Beagle, stupid Sho, stupid idiots who couldn't settle their own fights and had to drag girls into them! They ruined everything for her.

Kyoko took a deep breath and reminded herself of her surroundings. She was not in an onsen, she was in a hotel bathroom. She wasn't alone and unprotected, her sempai was in the other room, ready to act at every moment. There was nothing to be afraid of. Nothing at all.

So why was she still feeling tense?

She held a hand up in front of her eyes – it was almost like she had tunnel vision. She could only see things in front of her. That was why it had taken her so long to notice Ren, when he was lurking in the background. Even in the bitter cold outside, she had been sweating like a pig, and every so often, she'd had this unbelievable urge to do something – get up, walk up and down a flight of stairs, go for a run. She couldn't understand any of it.

Yes, actually, you can.

Kyoko closed her eyes, acceptance sweeping over her. Yes. Of course she could. She knew exactly what this was. She had experienced it already, with Reino.

Thoughts of the beagle made her angry, as usual, but she forced herself to look past her personal hatred of the man and focus on her experiences. She remembered what it had been like, to be stalked. She remembered the way her body would tense, like it was getting ready to run, how she had actually ran when she'd learned he was in the building. How she had hated herself for being so freaked out. How she'd freaked out even more when her worst fears confirmed.

It was that fear he'd been feeding on, and it was the same thing she was experiencing with Murasame, even now, after it was over. When the actor had seized her today, she had frozen momentarily – it was like she was back in the forest, with Reino. It was Reino's hands holding her. Reino opening her dress.

It was just for a moment, and then she went from numb to a state of apoplectic fury in a matter of heartbeats. With a vindictive smile, she remembered the face Murasame had made when she kneed him in the groin. She didn't even worry he might press charges – it was self-defense and nobody could tell her otherwise.

She came out on top. She got what she wanted, and even more. So why didn't she feel like it?

Kyoko shivered, and realized the water had grown cold. Hastily, she unplugged the tub and reached for the nozzle. How long had she been standing there, woolgathering, when Tsuruga Ren was cooking?

The tofu had turned to mush, the noodles were undercooked, and no matter how hard he stirred the pot, the miso paste wouldn't disintegrate properly. Ren had all but decided to dump the thing and order room service, when Kyoko emerged from the bathroom, and she wouldn't let him touch a thing.

She explained that the miso is meant to be disintegrated before he poured it into the pot, and that the tofu was added last, but that it was unlikely to cause them food poisoning like he feared. In spite of his doubts, she not only finished her bowl, but also asked for seconds. When she finished eating, she kept her hands on the bowl, as if she was trying to keep them warm.

"That was delicious, thank you," she said, without a trace of forced compliment.

"Well, that's comforting," Ren said. To him, the noodles had tasted like cardboard, but then again, he wasn't very hungry. "What do you think, can you teach me to look after myself?"

"Probably, though I wouldn't be in too much of a hurry to do it."

"Oh? How so?"

"Because if I did, you wouldn't need me anymore," she said, then, realizing her slip, blushed as red as a tomato. "That is… ugh… I mean…"

Ren, who barely stopped himself from breaking into a goofy grin, decided to rescue her.

"Well, my methods tonight were pretty atrocious. I'd say I have a long way to go." Then he stood up. "I'll do the dishes."

"No, that's no need," she said, standing up. "You cooked, it's my turn to do something. Please."

She looked so desperate, he accepted, but then took a towel and stood next to her, appointing himself as the official dryer. For a while, they worked in silence.

"Did the President scold you very badly?" she asked, at length. "You know, after we both talked to him."

"No. He wanted me to call my parents and give them an update myself. They've been pretty frantic."

"Oh." She got one of her faraway looks. "That's right. After the filming is done, you'll go see them."

"That's the plan." From the corner of his eye, he noticed how she hesitated, before reaching for the dirty pot.

"Sempai," she said, "Can I ask… are you planning on coming back to Japan, after?"

Ren turned around and looked at her, but she was too busy scrubbing the pot to look up. Or maybe she was making herself appear busy. Either way, she wasn't meeting his eye.

He thought about it. Was he returning? His first answer would have been a resounding yes, but… was he? He'd been so focused on his role as Cain Heel, so intent on keeping a harness on Kuon and not making a mess of things, that he had completely overlooked what was coming afterwards.

Yet, others had. Yashiro didn't know the whole story, but the President must have given him some inkling because his manager had pretty much cleared his schedule. As soon as the Black Jack part was over, Ren had no outstanding engagements – no movies, no series, no interviews, TV or magazine, no photo shoots. Not just for the month that followed, but indefinitely. As if Yashiro himself worried that he might not come back.

Ren wanted to return. Japan, a country he'd thought of as small, cold and inhospitable, had given him more than he could possibly repay it for. He'd made some incredible friends and he'd fallen in love.

And… if he were to spiral into depression, like he had after Rick, it was more likely that he would recover in Japan, with Kyoko by his side.

But how long could he use the "I-can-not-look-after-myself" excuse on her? Not much. Then he'd have to tell her how he felt, and probably suffer a soul-crushing rejection. Perhaps a lengthy stay in America was not so impossible.

Innerved by his silence, Kyoko spoke up.

"You must miss them."

"More than you can imagine," he said, distractedly.

"Well, you'll see them soon enough. To be completely honest, I'm a little jealous of you."

"How so?"

"At least you'll get to see them."

Ren lowered his eyes. "Yes. Yes, I will. But it's not like it'll be a very happy reunion." Not wanting to dwell on that, he changed the subject. "You should be okay. You'll finally get to see your friends. It feels like I've been monopolizing you all this time."

She shrugged. "It's not that bad. And I… I'd rather be with you right now."

Next to her, Ren reminded himself not to get his hopes up. "Why?" he asked.

"Just… stuff." She rinsed the pot and made to hand it over to him, when he said:

"Does it have something to do with Murasame?"

Crash.

The pot fell from her hand and landed on the floor with a deafening crash. Ren put the towel aside and stepped towards her. Ignoring her babbled apologies, he got her by the shoulders and made her look at him.

"Kyoko," he said, and the timbre of his voice made her freeze. "It's okay. It's over. I won't let you be alone with him, ever."

"It's… not that," she said, but her eyes filled with tears and she shivered. "It's just… he made me think of… Karuizawa."

Instead of responding, he took her in his arms and let her sob in his shirt. It was that… immediate support, that willingness to offer comfort that did her in. She embraced him and breathed in his scent, soap and sweat and tobacco. For the first time, she felt safe, and her body relaxed.

"I'm sorry," he said, stroking her hair. "You didn't have to go through that. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for."

"Yes, I do. When I heard him… when I heard what he said, I wanted, more than anything, to pound his face in, but I wanted to make good on my promise to trust you. It took everything for me to stay where I was." His arms tightened around her. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you were scared. I'm sorry you're still scared. I'm sorry you had to go through that again."

Kyoko sniffed and tried burying her face deeper. She couldn't keep warm.

"If it was up to me," Ren went on to say, "You wouldn't have had to go through this at all."

That made her look up. He looked angry, but for once, she realized it wasn't directed at her.

"Sempai… Ren, what are you talking about?" Feeling bold, she reached out and touched his cheek gently. He started, and she jerked her hand back. His eyes were burning.

"If I'd been in Karuizawa that time… You wouldn't have had that encounter with Reino in the first place. He wouldn't have been able to scare you like that, or give you any trouble."

"That's not up to you." She shook her head, and placed her hand on his face again. He leaned into her touch. The embers in his eyes had cooled a bit, but they were no less intense. "Ren, I would have faced this eventually. That doesn't make it better, or make me less scared, but it's not something you could prevent."

"I know. But it eats me, the idea that you're hurt." Without realizing, they had moved to copy each other's stance – her free hand rested on his shoulder, while he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. His thumb caressed her skin briefly, the touch as light as a whisper. "The thought of what he could have done with you…"

She had no idea who Ren meant, but the look in his eyes, the raw anger and fear… to think that somebody might experience such emotion, and over her, it was overwhelming. Deep down, she could hear the alarms blaring and her last lock falling away, as she watched the last layers of his mask peel off and reveal the red, red heart underneath.

Slowly, she let her hand drop and rest on his chest, to – what? Ward him off? Pull him closer? She had no idea.

Just when Ren thought he couldn't bear it any longer, the phone rang, making them start. It was the call from director Konoe.

"Yes?" Ren asked. "Yes. I see. Yes, that is so. I see. Thank you. Yes, I will come in tomorrow."

Kyoko watched him hang up. "Well?"

"The police have taken Murasame away for questioning. Director Konoe wants me to come in so that we can finish the filming in earnest. If we work overtime, we can have the movie wrapped up on schedule."

She swallowed. "That's good. That's… great. Well…" She hesitated. "I guess we should go to bed, then. Um, though maybe it'll be best if we tried sleeping apart tonight. Just to… get used to it, I mean."

"Kyoko…"

"Do you think I'll be able to go to LME tomorrow? I would probably need to see Sawara-san about some things and of course, I promised Moko-san I'll keep her up to date."

"Of course. But Kyoko?"

"Yes?"

He swallowed. This had the potential to blow up in his face. "We need to talk… later."

"Yes. Of course. Later."

"Tomorrow night?"

"Alright." Kyoko took a deep breath, then stepped back towards the bathroom. "I… need to brush my teeth."

Ren watched her go, then sat down. His knees had gone weak.

His phone rang again, and he glanced at the screen briefly. It was a text from the President, reminding him to call his parents. Checking his clock to make sure they'd be up, Ren hit the number. His father picked up almost immediately.

"Kuon," he cried, "Are you alright? You're not calling from the police station, are you?"

"No. You can relax. It's alright – the matter's settled."

"Settled? As in… you're okay?"

"I think so."

From the other side of the Pacific Ocean, Kuu let out a tremendous sigh of relief. "Praise be! I thought I would tell Julie if you said things were bad, but now… I'm so glad. Does that mean you're still coming back?"

"Yes. As soon as the shooting's over," Ren said.

"I don't know what I would have done otherwise," Kuu said. "You should have heard your mother. She's been over the moon because you're coming home. I can barely get her to rest. She's even…"

"What?"

"Well… we talked to some specialists in Austen. They've offered us an option to try surgery."

"And?" Ren's heart clenched. "What did you say?"

"Your mother said yes. She said that the prognosis, if the surgery goes well, is better than if she leaves things as is."

"Do you think it's safe?"

"What do we have left to lose?" Kuu replied, frustration evident in his voice. For the first time, Ren wondered what kind of stress his father must have been going through, all these years, and now especially.

It was paramount that he came home. He couldn't let his parents go through all of this, not alone. For a moment he worried about Kyoko – just now, he'd felt something was on the cusp of happening, but he couldn't be there for it. It hurt, like a splinter through the heart, but he reminded himself that, for once, there were people who mattered more.

"I'll be there," he said. "I promise."


	12. Chapter 12

Kanae reacted to the news of her friend's fortune as well as she might have. That is to say, she reacted with as little outward emotion as possible.

"So, now you're living on the other side," she said. "Try not to forget where you started from, okay?"

"Moko-san!" Kyoko cried. "I'm not going anywhere! I won't let this get into my head, I swear it."

"That's what they all say, but a few days later, they won't even know you."

"I will! I'll sign it in blood, I swear!"

Kanae rolled her eyes. "Kidding, idiot. Really, what a weird thing to make a big fuss of."

They were sitting in a karaoke booth, and, just like the first time, Kyoko was spilling her guts out to her. It was oddly mundane – given how their recent assignments had driven them apart, Kanae thought it was nice that some things never changed. Like her friend's talent of making a big deal of small things.

Kyoko, however, saw it differently. "But Moko-san, you were so embarrassed by the state of your house when I was over. I thought you hated rich people."

"That's a weird connection to make. I don't hate rich people – I expect to become rich myself, when I'm Japan's next top actress," Kanae said, rolling her eyes. "But in all seriousness, it's fine. You're the humblest person I know, and unlike some people, I'm sure that you will not abuse that privilege."

"Okay."

"And if you do abuse it, I will never speak to you again."

"I PROMISE I WON'T ABUSE IT!"

"Good," Kanae said, smiling. "Now, what else are you worried about?"

Kyoko let out a big sigh. If she had to be completely and totally honest, confessing about the money was the easiest. So she decided to be as roundabout as possible.

"Well, I have this… acquaintance. We… well, we're actually pretty good friends, but I'm not entirely sure about that. Lately, we've been talking a lot and…"

"Hold on. Let's back this up a bit, and for goodness' sake, stop being so vague. We're talking about Tsuruga Ren here, right?"

"Moko-san!"

"Well? Are we?"

"Yes," she said, in a tone of voice that suggested she was confessing a shameful secret. "Anyway, we… we were working on a project together these last weeks, but I can't tell you anything in particular, it's absolutely secret. We've been talking a lot, though, and he's been… he's been so good to me, Moko-san. When I first learned about… my mother… and everything, he was just so supportive and understanding and…"

"Okay, you're starting to sound like a fangirl."

"I'm sorry!"

"No, wait…" Kanae leaned in. "Are you telling me that you, little miss "Love is for the weak", you, who are the sole reason why President Takarada created the "Love me!" division, are actually having a crush on somebody?"

Kyoko looked down, ashamed.

"I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about! Idiot! Are you realizing that if the President hears about this, the division will go through the roof? You'd be a living, breathing proof his system works."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Probably not to those people forced into the jumpsuits."

"There's more. Moko-san, do you remember when I told you about the PW I shot with Fuwa Sho? And how Tsuruga-san was angry afterwards? You said he might have been jealous?"

"Yeah?"

"Um… you know, I think you may be right."

"Well, duh!"

"Moko-san! You're supposed to be supportive!"

"I am supportive! If I wasn't, I'd be mocking you senseless with your own words. You were so sure the man hated you, it would be comedy gold not to wrangle you a bit. However-" she added, when Kyoko went into full pout mode "—I am your friend, so I'll just leave it at that and ask why is it that you're so worried? If he likes you, and you like him, the rest is easy."

Kyoko mumbled something under her nose.

"What's that?"

"I said, it's not so easy." She tried explaining, without giving too much away, what Ren had shared about his family, and then told her the story how she overheard him talking about this schoolgirl he liked. "I'm worried, Moko-san," she said at the end. "What if he's so distraught about what's happening with his family, he's using me as a stand-in for this girl he likes?"

"You can't honestly believe that. Do you really think he's the type?"

"I don't know what type he is!" Kyoko threw her hands in the air. "He says one thing, then does another. Tells me to be on my guard, then acts like I'm supposed to go to him for every little thing. He's so… so… confusing!"

"Confusing, unless he was in love with you and jealous of anyone else."

"Then why doesn't he come out and just say it! It's so…"

"Stupid?"

"Yes!"

"Well—" Kanae set her glass down "—were it any other situation, I would have told you to just wait it out and see what happens. But the way you're telling it, it seems like you're on a limited time, and he's acting like he might do something."

Kyoko nodded.

"I don't have much relationship experience," Kanae said. "So you need to take this all with a grain of salt. But my best advice is, you need to think about all this very carefully. Not just about Tsuruga Ren, but also about Fuwa Sho. You need to examine your last relationship seriously, find out why exactly you were so badly burned, and decide what your limits are. So you think Tsuruga-san is annoying because some of the things he does don't add up with what he says – maybe that's a deal breaker for you. He needs to know that."

Kanae took a sip of water, watching her friend. The fact that Kyoko hadn't exploded yet was a pretty good sign, all things considered. Knowing she had her full attention, she went on.

"I also think that you need to honestly think about your expectations of this relationship. Are you and Tsuruga a one-time thing? Or are you hoping for something long-term? If you're not ready for a grown-up relationship, and all the things that go with it, perhaps you should tell him that."

"And, by grown-up, you mean…"

"Sex," Kanae deadpanned. "Although, if you're not able to even say the word or discuss it seriously, you're probably not ready for it."

"Sorry. It's just… I had a pretty conservative upbringing." Her face darkened. "Though, nowadays, I question everything, my upbringing especially."

Kanae raised an eyebrow.

"Well," she said, "it's good that you are. Asking questions gets you answers, and generally, the more, the better. But honestly, if you're not comfortable with physical intimacy, it's best to be upfront about it."

Kyoko nodded again, trying to keep the blush from the cheeks. In all honesty, this was a conversation she didn't want having, ever, but Kanae was always so right. Besides… it wasn't like she had anyone else to talk to about it.

The last few days, she'd been skirting around the issue of her mother, taking care not to dwell too much on how she had left her, or the letter she'd left. She referred to her inheritance as "the money", not "her mother's provision" or "her mother's inheritance". Somehow, the idea that this woman, who had made her life a living hell, actually cared for her, was a bit too much to consider.

"I guess you're right. There's one more thing I need to ask you, though," she said. Kanae nodded. "My mother left me some letters to open on my birthdays. In… in the one I was supposed to get first, she asks me not to look for my father."

"So?"

"Um… I don't know. I guess, lately, I've been really confused about her. I thought she was one thing, and then she was another. I don't understand her, and I just… I want to. I think that maybe talking with someone who knew her might help."

Her friend shrugged. "That's up to you."

"But what would you do?"

Kanae didn't reply immediately. Part of her wanted to tell Kyoko to figure things out herself – after all, she was her own person, and she was going to end up doing what she wanted anyway. But then Kanae thought back to the time they auditioned for their first commercial – how angry she'd been when Kenounji Erika had breezed in, throwing her money and her family name around. How she'd hated herself, for not being able to fight back, for not being able to win.

Whenever she thought back to that time, she couldn't imagine ever going back to the audition without Kyoko. Without her friend validating her choices… who knows what would have happened?

So she tried to be honest.

"Personally, I wouldn't have bothered. I wouldn't need anything from him – I've got friends to support me, I've got money, and I've got a roof over my head. Unless you're planning to travel abroad before you turn eighteen, there's nothing he could do that you can't get from anyone else. And you said you never knew the guy – if it were me, I wouldn't give him the time of the day. He didn't care for me, so why should I care for him?"

Kyoko nodded, but there was something in her face that made Kanae pause. She wasn't entirely convinced.

"However—" she went on "—that's just my opinion. If finding out about your mother is really that important to you, then everything else is pretty much moot."

"I guess you're right," Kyoko said, looking away. "I'm anxious, and I'm scared, but I want to talk to him nonetheless."

"That, unfortunately, I can't do anything about," Kanae said. "If life was all clear cut and easy, though, we would be out of a job."

"Yeah, probably."

"One last advice? Go see if you can take up any new jobs. I'm not saying that to jinx you, but… if something goes wrong, it's good to have something to keep you busy."

*

Yashiro stared at the display window, then shook his head. "Too flashy."

"But wouldn't it be just according to her tastes?" Ren asked. "I mean, shouldn't I take that into consideration?"

"Normally, yes, but when it comes to jewelry, I usually think that less is more. Why not something more delicate, like a heart pendant?"

Ren tore his eyes away from the larger pieces on display and threw his manager a quizzical look. "Wouldn't that be a little on the nose?"

Yashiro made an "I-give-up" gesture and perused the windows again. His watch showed that they were ten minutes behind schedule, but Ren had worked so effectively all afternoon that they could afford to get side-tracked.

His client had had a busy day. It was nice to see him take a break, even if it was to do something silly.

"You think I'm being ridiculous, aren't you?" Ren asked, as if sensing his manager's thought.

"Who, me? No. Though there's still time before Kyoko-chan's birthday – why are you picking her gift out right now?"

Ren shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not picking up a birthday gift. Just…a token. From one friend to another."

"Ren? Are you actually telling me you're giving Kyoko a present for no other reason than just because?"

"Yes."

Yashiro wasn't buying it. Not that selfless gift-giving was a bad thing, but his friend was pretty careful with his actions around Kyoko-chan. Hell, he'd made up a who convoluted story just so that he could get her to accept his birthday gift, and Yashiro still didn't know if the girl bought it entirely. To his mind, it was obvious that the story was hoakey, but if Kyoko thought so too, then there was the question of how she felt for Ren.

"What about this one?" Ren asked, pointing to a small gold pendant in the shape of two masks, Tragedy and Comedy. It was the most generically theatrical thing he could have picked, but…

"That one's good. Doesn't make a bold statement, and if she has to, she can hide it under her shirt."

Ren smiled with relief. "That's what I thought."

While he was settling things with the clerk, Yashiro checked the schedule one last time. They were due to drop by LME so that Ren could settle some things with the President, then he was going to put on his Cain Heel disguise and go back to the hotel because he had some shooting as Black Jack first thing in the morning. Presumably, Kyoko-chan would be there too.

Yashiro frowned. Ren hadn't told him what had happened after Kyoko had returned from her leave of absence – one would assume they had made up as they always did, but the younger man had been very jittery all day. Was it possible to avoid someone in a one-bedroom apartment? Apparently so.

"We talked," Ren said, when out of the store. "But… we didn't really get to say everything we wanted to say to each other."

Yashiro raised an eyebrow, silently prompting him for details.

Ren gave him the abridged version of their latest conversation. By the time he was done, Yashiro's eyes were as big as plates.

"Then the director called."

Yashiro groaned. "They always call at the worst times! So, wait, are you telling me you and Kyoko-chan are about to confess your feelings to each other?"

"I don't know."

"But you got her a gift. Don't tell me… oh, Ren, please don't tell me you're going to try and soften her up with gifts."

"What are you talking about? This is to thank her for all her hard work for this project. It has nothing to do with what we're about to say to each other."

"You can't possibly think that." Yashiro said, shaking his head. "Ren, you and Kyoko-chan are about to have a very stressful conversation. Making her gifts, no matter what the occasion, is not appropriate in this situation. If you do, she'll feel pressured and uncomfortable – do you want that to happen?"

The younger man hesitated. In truth, it had passed his mind, but he'd dismissed it, because damn it, he wanted to give the woman he loved a gift and after all she's done for him, it was the least he could do. But he had to admit, Yashiro was right. Tonight was not about gratitude.

"Alright," he said. "Then… will you hold onto this for me, for a little while."

Yashiro nodded. "Of course I will."

*

Sawara-san smiled when he saw her come in. "Ah, Mogami, I was just about to call for you. Did you get briefed by Takarada-saicho?"

"Yes," she said. "My current assignment is going well. He's very pleased with the results." She decided not to mention the scolding she'd gotten for going out of her way. Oh well. She said she would take responsibility, and she did. "I was just wondering, have you got any new offers for me? Auditions, etc?"

"Actually, I got quite a few." He pulled out a bunch of files and handed them over to her. "Some people saw the pilot episode for Box-R and contacted me about you. Bully roles again, but people seem to think you have a strong presence."

Kyoko nodded as she flipped through the stack. She could do variations on a theme – and it was just what Moko had suggested. A part of her fluttered in anticipation – she hoped that every new role would get her this excited.

"Thank you. I will look through those and let you know what I decide." She bowed.

"You're welcome. Oh, right, I got this call for a movie role too, but I don't think you'll be very interested in it."

She perked up. "Why?"

"Well, the producer hasn't seen any of your dramas – apparently, he heard about you from some director you never worked with. Does the name Konoe ring a bell?"

She froze. How much did Sawara-san know? How much could she tell?

"I know him," she said. "I helped out an actor on his set as part of a Love Me! assignment."

"Ah, that explains it." Sawara-san frowned. "This director convinced the producer of a thriller that you'd be perfect for some antihero role. The man isn't entirely convinced, but he wanted to invite you to the audition. It'll take place on Friday."

Kyoko reached out and took the paper from him. Part of her felt nervous – an antihero role? And all because director Konoe saw her play Setsuka? It wasn't that different from the bully role, but this was something new.

Could she do it? Her first audition sprang to mind, making her cringe. She'd been so awkward then, so inexperienced. Now, at least, she had two big roles in her portfolio, not to mention the work she'd done shooting commercials and PV's. She had the confidence, she had the skills. So why not do it?

"It sounds interesting," she said. "Could you contact the producer and ask him if I need to do a line-reading?"

"I can. We can get you the script in a few minutes, if you can just wait for a little while."

She nodded gratefully, then sat down. As he made the call, she started reading one of the character descriptions he'd given her. High school drama, this time with the bully and the main character fighting over the same guy. She winced at some of the dialogue for the pilot episode – not that it was much, but she could tell the writers had put virtually no effort in the writing of the character. She flipped back to the list of established actors and noticed that Kawagoe Michika was listed as the star.

That explains it, Kyoko thought, wryly, but then instead of discarding the script, she decided to keep it for closer consideration. True, given what Moko-san and Amamiya-san had said about Michika's acting range, playing against her was bound to be a nightmare, but maybe not necessarily. Perhaps she could discuss it with Ren tonight… unless they killed each other first.

"Mogami-san?" Sawara-san waved some newly printed pages at her. "Your lines."

"Ah, thank you," she said, getting to her feet. "I'll read through them, and I'll do my best at the audition. Can you message me the time and place, please?"

"Already taken care of. The producer seemed rather ambivalent about your coming, though, so you should be prepared for a cold reception."

"I can deal with that," Kyoko said, remembering how Ren had acted when he first met her as Cain Heel. It really was amazing, how some things stopped bothering her after a while. She was so preoccupied she didn't realize her supervisor was still speaking. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I said, at least you won't be completely alone," Sawara-san said. "Kijima-san is going to be auditioning for one of the roles too, so you'll have someone you know there."

Kyoko froze, and then made a face.

Yup, she thought, we'll end up killing each other tonight.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! Or any of the other books/works referenced here. This is a work of fiction only.
> 
> Takes place after chapter 188.
> 
> This is a repost. See the link in my bio for the original, flaws and all.

Ren's stomach was in knots when he and Kyoko met up in LME. They were both in character already, so jumping immediately into the conversation was out of the question. However, he noticed her carrying a bag full of paperwork – a welcome distraction, if worst came to worst.

She seemed calm – of course, it could be a feature of her character, but somehow, the way she was so blasé about everything only made him more jittery. What if she thought about what they were going to talk about, and decided it was better if they didn't have the conversation at all? Or worse, what if she had planned to let him down easy? What if she had a whole speech memorized and was now waiting for him to give her an opening?

That idea made him bargain with himself. At first, he wasn't going to bring it up until they were in the hotel. Then he decided to put it off until after their cooking lesson (ma po tofu this time). Then, of course, you couldn't bring these things up during dinner, even if the tension made it impossible for him to enjoy the food, and then there were dishes to wash.

As he dried the last of the pots (no accidents this time), his eyes fell on her bag, and he decided to take one last attempt at delaying the impossible.

"Did you get a lot of requests?" he asked.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Sawara-san got a few calls. It's mostly bully roles again, though there's one invitation for an audition."

"An audition? For what?" Ren set the towel aside and turned to give her his full attention.

Kyoko leaned back in her chair. "An antihero role in a movie. The producer doesn't know who I am, apparently, but Director Konoe recommended me."

"Well, you see how you don't know who you might impress," Ren said. "Are you going?"

"I asked for the lines, so I figured I might as well try. If there's time, would you like to hear me do a reading?" she asked.

"Of course. Any time." He smiled, feeling anxious and proud at the same time. She was progressing in leaps and bounds, and was showing such confidence… it was amazing. "It's a shame I won't be able to audition for that one too. Shooting your first movie would be quite the experience."

"I haven't even got the role," she said, but she was smiling. Then her eyes darkened. "I don't know. Sawara-san said that the producer was ambivalent about my being there – I'll have to make a strong impression, even if it's just to show I haven't wasted their time. Then he told me that Kijima-san will be auditioning too, like that was supposed to be some kind of relief."

At the mention of Kijima's name, Ren's good mood immediately disappeared. Taking care to make his face as expressionless as ever, he said:

"Is that so? I see."

Kyoko noticed the shift in his demeanor immediately. Uncrossing her legs and standing up, she walked around the table so that they didn't have anything between them. To her younger self, such a dramatic mood swing would have been incomprehensible. Incomprehensible, at least, unless he was jealous.

Picking her words carefully, she said:

"I don't have to take the role, even if I get it. But the audition would be a good opportunity for me, to create an interpretation of a character in a short amount of time."

"I know," Ren said. He coughed and tried to work his way back to the state of mind he had before she said the dreaded actor's name. "I didn't say you shouldn't."

"You don't like Kijima-san," she said, hitting the target right in the bull's eye. "You think that because of what he did for me on the Dark Moon party… because I let him buy me a dress and a make-over, he has some kind of claim on me. Or that I owe him something."

"No, of course not."

"Ren," she said, "I know you do. You're not the only one."

In response to his look of confusion, she sighed and explained:

"Last week, before I went to Kyoto, Fuwa Sho accosted me by my school to give me grief for whoring myself out."

Ren, who, until that point, had been staring quietly, suddenly got up and started pacing the room.

"That… that…" He couldn't find a good enough word in Japanese, so he sprouted off in English. It wasn't until he was finished cursing a blue streak that he realize Kyoko was still there. She didn't look pissed, though. In fact, she looked like she was barely controlling her laughter. "He had no right to say these things to you," Ren said, at length.

"But you do?"

"I never…"

"You implied it. Or, at least, you implied that I was too clueless to go to anyone but you." When he failed to react, she came up to him and stood so that she was in his face.

Earlier in the day, she'd taken Kanae's advice and thought back. Not just about her relationship to Shotarou, but also to the Fuwas in general. And, to her surprise, she realized there was an essential thing she wanted to make clear, and she needed Ren's full attention.

His eyes were on her. So she decided to make it count.

"I've been lied to all my life, Ren-sempai," she said. "I don't like it. I don't appreciate hypocrisy either, but I'm not perfect and neither is anyone else. I realize you must have had your reasons for telling me the things you did, at the time. However—" she paused, to make sure he was listening "—now, things are different. I don't expect full disclosure, but please, please don't treat me like I'm four years old."

He swallowed.

"I understand. Forgive me – I acted incredibly badly."

Kyoko swallowed, and nodded. Even with her body weak with relief, she managed to sound calm and collected. "Thank you."

Ren sat down on his bed, slowly. Not knowing what was best, she made herself comfortable beside him. After a while, he said:

"I don't want you to give up your audition, or the role, even if Kijima gets in as well. I'd never ask something like that of you."

"I'm glad to hear it," she said. "But we'll see. I might not like the role. Or the producers might not like me. There're plenty of things I can do – in fact, there's a drama with Kawagoe Michika that caught my eye as well."

Ren winced. "Really? Kawagoe Michika?"

"I think it would be interesting."

He dropped it. There were more important things to consider anyway. He thought back to the Dark Moon party, and his abysmal reaction. He never thought he'd get a chance to explain it to her, but now that he did, he found himself unable to pick the right words.

"I don't blame you for what happened," he said. "There's… really no blame to be had. I reacted horribly. I took my frustrations out on you, and I'm sorry. I brought this on myself, anyway."

Kyoko tried deciphering that mind-bender, before venturing a guess:

"You mean that you were angry at yourself back then?"

"Yes. It's exactly what I meant. I suppose I should have warned you that Kijima shows an interest in you, but I didn't know how to do it without coming off as a… a…"

"Patronizing jerk?"

"Yes."

She leaned back on her hands and stared at the ceiling, like it might hold the perfect answer to such a statement. "I guess I should have paid more attention to him, too," she said, finally. "But, to be honest, I was really scared, at the time."

"About what?" He caught the angry note in his voice, and tried to explain. "I mean, why didn't you come to me? I would have protected you from whatever…"

"It was you I was scared of," she said, and turned to look at him. He recoiled like she'd just tried to bite him. "At the time… it was right after the car accident. It was a horrible experience. And then, the night we had dinner at your apartment… I felt something that I promised myself I'd never feel again. And it scared me."

Ren was starting to get over his shock, and suddenly the pieces of the puzzle clicked together.

"So, when Kijima offered to dress you up…"

"I went along to make you angry," she confessed. "I thought, if you hated me, things would get better. Only that plan backfired royally on me."

Ren stared at her with a mixture of awe and horror. The enormity of what he was hearing started to hit him, and suddenly, the room seemed way too small.

"So that's how it is," he said. "We were both mishandling the situation."

She raised her eyes and met his gaze head on. "And what is the situation, exactly?"

There. The gauntlet was tossed. Now it was up to him whether he was going to take it or not. He wondered if he had a chance to backtrack, still. Surely, he could. He could make something up. Some convoluted story that would allow them to maintain a state of obliviousness.

But he wouldn't. Not anymore.

"I'm in love with you," he said. "And… you started to have feelings for me as well."

It was Kyoko's turn to look away. However, it wasn't until she'd given him a look that said he'd been one hundred percent correct.

"You say it so frankly," she said. "You really aren't a Japanese person."

Ren smiled. He found it very easy to do, now that he'd gotten everything off his shoulders. "I suppose I'm not. Is it wrong?"

"No. It's not." She sighed. "I… I mean it, when I told you I was scared. I still am. Right now, it's hard to tell what's right and what's wrong. Things I've been believing all my life turn out to be a hoax, and I… I don't know where I stand anymore."

"So what changed?" he asked. "What made you want to have this conversation with me?"

"I don't know—" she looked up "—maybe it was because you were willing to learn to cook, even when you're such a perfectionist."

The line, so deadpan, yet so much like her, caught him off guard. He burst out laughing. Kyoko, though, instead of being offended, just smiled as well. Once he'd calmed down, she went on.

"It's the truth. You're always there for me. You're always ready to offer me comfort, even when I don't deserve it. You're a great person, Ren, and… I can't be ashamed of my feelings. Scary as they are. Scary as you are, sometimes."

That sobered him up quite nicely. "You're right," he said. "I am scary. Perhaps it would be best, for both of us, that we didn't go any further than that."

"If we do that, wouldn't it be the Kijima thing all over again?" she asked. Then, before he could answer, she got up and stood in front of him. She made sure he was looking at her, before saying, "I'm scared. This… situation, as you call it, it can end up hurting us both, very badly. But I can't pretend this conversation never happened."

And, with startling clarity, he realized what she meant. If they decided to leave things at that, they would have to go their separate ways. No more meetings, or telephone calls, or going to each other for support, not for many months at least.

The idea made him sick to his stomach. And, from the looks of it, it was just as painful to her.

"Then… do you want us to try?" he asked, in disbelief. "If you don't, it's alright. Perhaps it would even be the smart thing to do…"

"Would you hurt me? Intentionally, I mean? Would you let me suffer if you knew you could prevent it?"

"Never. Never."

She took a deep breath. "Alright."

"Alright? That's all?"

"No." She reached back, removed her wig and the pins holding her hair back. Then, after some consideration, she shrugged her jacket off as well. Once she did that, she stepped closer. And closer.

Ren's hands reached out, tentatively, and grasped her hips to steady her, as she moved between his knees. His sitting position allowed her to stand over him, and to take control. Gently, he fingers brushed his bangs away, clearing his face.

He closed his eyes and let her explore. He felt it, and that was the most important thing – the coolness of her skin as she traced the lines of his nose and brows and mouth; the sweetness of her scent when she leaned in a bit closer; the way her hair tickled his cheeks, warning him of her next move. Without thinking, he raised his lips and met hers, soft and warm.

There was a moment when neither of them didn't move – a general "What have I done?" moment, if you will – before Ren reached towards the back of her head and pulled her in closer. Suddenly, both came to life, two clumsy, awkward people sharing a not-so-clumsy or awkward kiss. Hands intertwined and grasped, they broke away so that they could get more comfortable, and then went back at it again.

If the phone rang again, they didn't hear it.

Then, the fervor cooled, and Ren became aware of other things – the way her body molded against him, how his hand seemed to fit perfectly into the curve of her hip, how amazing it was when she laced her fingers behind his neck and used it as leverage. And he slowed down, to enjoy those and a thousand other things better, to relish that first kiss and make it as memorable to her as it was to him.

He realized he'd pulled her down and that she was almost completely lying underneath him, so he raised himself on his elbows, to take a moment, and to take his weight off her. She was looking up at him, cheeks red, hair in disarray, and eyes gleaming like pebbles in a river. It was, by far, the most bewitching thing he'd seen in his life.

"I should warn you," she said. "I'm not ready for sex."

And then he was laughing again, and he actually had to roll off her, lest he crush her accidentally. He felt her roll on her side and glaring at him, but he couldn't help himself – the laughter just kept coming and coming, and he was unable to stop it.

When it ran out, he raised himself and kissed her. It was long and sweet, but in comparison to the first try, it was a simple peck.

"You amaze me," he said, finally.

"Why? For pointing out an obvious fact?" She nudged him. "Even though I like your laugh, I was serious, you know. I'm not ready for sex."

"So, you're saying I should schedule the roses and the candle seduction for later then?" When he saw the look on her face, he shook his head. "I understand. I'm sorry for laughing. You're right – we should wait, at least until you're eighteen."

"And probably keep this private," she added. "From the public, I mean."

"Yes. Absolutely."

They hesitated. Then she kissed him again, and there was some more fumbling and laugher and awkwardness, until they found a way to get comfortable.

It was ridiculous. It was sublime.

*

Much, much later, Ren had dozed off. For both their sakes, they'd decided to try and sleep separately, for real this time, it seemed to be working out well. Kyoko watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, and when she convinced herself he was sleeping peacefully, she slipped out of bed and took the script for the Friday audition.

The lines were pretty standard, but that wasn't a big deal – she knew that a certain percent of scripts got recycled every now and again. She checked her character background – Midori, a young woman whose lover was killed by a police raid, angry with the system and carrying out vengeance in her own terms – and then looked back at the dialogue. It was supposed to be with a confrontation with the male hero, somewhere in the third act.

Midori: Stay away. Don't come any closer, or I'll shoot.

Irukawa: You don't mean that. I know you don't. You say you hate chaos, but you secretly hate it – that's why you didn't kill that woman, even though you could.

Midori: *laughter* You don't know the first thing about me. Now step away.

Irukawa: *raises hands* Why are you doing this? Why are you forcing yourself to do something you detest?

Midori and Irukawa glare at each other. She still keeps the gun trained on her victim, but there are signs she's listening.

Irukawa: Midori, listen to me – you don't have to do this. There are people I know… people who owe me favors, who can help you. If you let me…

Midori: What? You'll save me? Like the white knight in the fairy tale? Not gonna happen.

Irukawa: You're not a fool. You know I'm offering you a way out.

She hesitates for a long time, then cocks the gun.

Midori: My path has been chosen.

Kyoko muttered the lines under her nose, frowning. She wished she had time to read the whole script, get a better feel of the characters and their interactions. From the looks of this dialogue, it was very much like the writers were having some dreams about Midori and Irukawa, which were probably going to be abandoned for fanfic fuel. But she didn't like the idea of a romantic entanglement, especially if Kijima got the part.

She tried putting herself in Midori's shoes. She'd lost her lover. The system she'd been taught to trust had failed them both. Kyoko imagined herself as an optimistic twenty-something, full of dreams and aspirations, then had the floor fall out from under her feet.

The sensations – pain, disorientation, overwhelming rage – they were easy to find. She wondered how long Midori had been drifting in the numb state, where revenge was the only thing on her mind. Longer than her, she was willing to bet.

She didn't begrudge the screen writers for the cheesy dialogue. It was the kind of nasty situation you wanted to amend… the situation that just needed the right man to have the fairy tale roles restored.

But Midori wasn't just stumbling around the world, blindly looking for support – she knew how she could get her revenge, and she wasn't afraid to steal, lie, or kill, to do it. It was like she was resigned – resigned to her fate, resigned to forever being alone and unloved, with her only wish being to achieve that revenge and then rest in peace.

Suddenly, she knew how she wanted to do the reading.

Ren woke up at some point, stirred by the promise of a nightmare. She was still up, muttering lines under her nose and practicing her act in the mirror. He wondered if he ought to offer his help, but then decided she was doing a good job at it herself. Smiling, he drifted back to sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! Or any of the other books/works referenced here. This is a work of fiction only.
> 
> Takes place after chapter 188.
> 
> This is a repost. See the link in my bio for the original, flaws and all.

The morning came too quickly.

They went about their routines as they always had – brushing their teeth, fixing up their costumes, making breakfast. From the sidelines, there was nothing different about their routine.

But a careful observer would notice the small things – how they would catch each other's eye and smile shyly, almost reassuringly. How either would suddenly get distracted and dreamy, and the other would shake their head. How they always found small ways to touch each other – hands brushing as they handed each other things, his hip briefly bumping hers as he squeezed past her in the kitchen, her fingers sweeping the bangs from his eyes.

And then there was that time he pushed her up against the counter and kissed her.

"The President and Jelly-san will be here soon," she said when they broke apart.

"They won't come up," Ren said and ducked his head in for another kiss.

Funny thing about love… it brought the strongest sense of relief you could have imagined. Kyoko wondered when she had seen Ren so relaxed, and she draw a blank. No, wait… he'd laughed pretty hard after that one time he had pinned her to the floor in his flat and threatened to kiss her.

The thought made her pause. He felt that and pulled back.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern creeping into his voice.

"Yes. Just remembered... nevermind." A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"When you had problem with the Katsuki role... you know, that time I came over to ad lib with you..."

"Yes." He smiled at the memory, then realized what she'd been thinking about. "Oh..."

"So, was that bit about asking me if I wanted you to teach me how to kiss part of the scene, or was it for real."

Ren deliberated his options. Finally, he shrugged. "Guilty as charged."

"That was mean," she said, punching his shoulder playfully. "I really felt bad about that!"

"I'm sorry. Will it help you to say that it was the first time in a while that I lost myself in a role? You were the more professional of us in that scene."

Kyoko bristled. "Again. Mean."

The kettle boiled then, and she turned around to get their cups out. He helped her lay the table, and the two sat down for breakfast. All the while, he was talking – it was a good thing the President wasn't there, because he would have scolded them for breaking character.

"It wasn't the only time I wanted to kiss you."

"Really?" Kyoko raised an eyebrow. Her mind quickly provided the Valentine's Day episode, and she pushed it down quickly. "Like when?"

Ren appeared to be deep in thought. "Well," he said, "I can't say the first time was during that scene, but it was the first time I realized what this feeling was."

"Right, you have no experience with love," she said, before realizing her slip. Quickly, she covered it up. "Tsuruga Ren, Japan's most wanted after actor, and you couldn't recognize the urge to kiss someone. Even I knew that."

She waited anxiously for him to pick up what she'd just done, but either love was blinding him, or she was a better actress than she thought, because he fell for it, hook, line and sinker.

"You'd be surprised." He sipped his tea. "When I was younger, I was not lacking for female company, but it was never love. It was more about... well..."

"Oh. That."

"Yes, that." Ren shrugged. "I was a stupid kid. Stupider than most." A shadow passed over his eyes, and he drifted off in the memory. She reached out and took his hand in hers, before he closed up completely.

"So, you were never in love?" she prompted, hoping to bring him back from whatever brink he was tethering over. It worked. He smiled, took her hand and kissed it.

"Not like this. Before that time in my apartment, I'd felt odd around you. When you first told me why you acted, I felt very proud, and happy. Having you come over was great, though it made me kind of angry that Yashiro was putting you up to it. And then... afterwards... well..." He looked suddenly sheepish. "There were so many times, but I was afraid of what you might do, if I started something."

Kyoko blushed and looked down. The atmosphere suddenly felt heavy, so she tried lighting it up.

"So basically, every time you give me that angelic smile, or the Emperor of the Night look, you want to kiss me."

Ren stared at her blankly.

"Emperor of the Night look?" he asked, puzzled. "I think I know the smile you're talking about, but when do I have an Emperor of the Night look?"

"Well, you know, when you're like..." she trailed off, waiting for him to fill the void.

"No, I don't. What's it like?"

Damn that man, he was deliberately teasing her. Swallowing the horrible embarrassment, Kyoko forced herself to look at him in the eye.

"You had that look on during the Katsuki scene. Like... you were all..." She tried mimicking the expression, smiling a secret smile and half-closing her eyes and dropping her voice down several octaves, like she was about to tell a huge secret and she was enjoying every second of it. "Seductive, and stuff."

Ren was staring at her as if she'd just punched him. Wondering what kind of an ugly grimace she'd ended up making, Kyoko dropped the act.

"It's not accurate, of course," she said, busying herself with her chopsticks. "I'm just saying, you have this really mature expression, and it always makes me feel like a deer in the headlights. I have absolutely no idea how to react."

"On the contrary," he said, and his voice made her look up. "I actually think you have a little of the Emperor of the Night quality yourself."

"That," she said. "That, right there. You're doing it now."

His smile stretched wider. Suddenly, her stomach clenched in anticipation. She felt like something was about to happen, and that this something might not be all bad. Swallowing, she tried to ignore him, but he drew her eyes like a flame might draw a moth. Her mouth dried.

"Yes," he said, almost to himself. "I can see exactly what you mean."

Slowly, she set her chopsticks down. He did too. Their chairs scraped as they rose – she, quickly, he, at a more leisurely pace. A little bit of the old Kyoko made her retreat when he advanced, but it was a pretty useless exercise when she had to take three steps for each one of his. So she forced her feet to stay in place and just craned her neck to meet his eyes.

Ren came up to her, careful not to crowd her. His hands slid around her waist and he bent down to brush his lips against hers. "You know me better than you give yourself credit for," he said.

"Ah, is that so?" she asked, while her brain short-circuited. Ren smirked, then, in one quick motion, lifted her until she was sitting on the counter, and he was between her legs. Her hands immediately buried themselves in his hair. Their eyes met.

"Yes, that's exactly so."

And then the damn phone rang. Again.

Kyoko was all in for not answering, but Ren grabbed the handle and answered before she could occupy him otherwise. "Yes?" he asked in English. "Coming."

"The President?"

"Yes. He and Ten-san are wondering where we are." He helped her off the counter, but couldn't help it and kissed her one more time. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine," she said, shy all of a sudden. She cleared her throat. "Are we telling the President?"

Ren hesitated. He didn't want to dump all of his baggage on her in one day, and the President was bound to push him to do so if he knew. On the other hand, Yashiro knew that he planned to talk to Kyoko last night, and his manager wasn't above anything to get the information he needed.

He squeezed her hand. "We will, but not now. You need to get out of the Setsu costume and go to your audition, and I need to go do the filming. We'll tell him tonight."

*

Kyoko made it to the audition with some ten minutes to spare. Ren had offered to drive her, but that had been impossible if he was in costume. Part of her wondered if he didn't also want to mark his territory around Kijima, but of course, that wasn't possible if they were going to lay low for a while.

"Ah, Kyoko-chan!" Speak of the devil...

"Hello, Kijima-san," she said, as politely as possible. In spite of that, her heart beat fast – now that she had a secret to keep, it felt like she had to put up a performance for every single second of her day.

"Sawara-san mentioned you'll be auditioning for Midori's role," Kijima said, cutting to the chase. "That's great. I'll be trying out for Irukawa – we can probably do the line reading together."

Given the spark in his eyes, she was sure which angle he wanted to play it from. Swallowing her panic, Kyoko forced another polite smile. The countless times she'd been subjected to Ren's gentleman facade were paying off.

"In that case, let's go the best job we can."

"Absolutely," he swept his hand out towards the corridor where the other actors were waiting with their agents. He chattered the whole way through the wait, about this new restaurant and how much he enjoyed the Thai food they served, and how truly divine their coconut rice was, and, oh, yes, you should definitely check it out, Kyoko-chan.

Whether it was the talk she'd had with Ren last night, or the fact that he eyes were now opened up, but Kyoko was starting to find the conversation grating. Kijima now looked a little bit too polished, too good in his pretty boy image. It reminded her of another idiot.

"I'll keep it in mind," she said, trying to balance out the politeness and the disinterest in her voice. It was annoying – if only she could set some firm boundaries, then everything would be okay, but how was she supposed to do that? Kijima had never really given her an obvious sign of his intentions, and without that, she just looked like a hysterical female throwing a hissy fit. On the other hand, they were colleagues, and making enemies of people in the industry was not a good idea.

Yes. It was very annoying.

When the pairings were announced, she tried not to wince when their names were called out. Kijima turned to her with an excited look in his eyes, and she just imagined him pushing the romantic angle on her.

She clenched her fist. No. No, he wouldn't.

Because she would make him act along with her.

The grudges cackled gleefully.

*

President Takarada stared at his protégé like the latter had just announced his intention to give up acting so that he could pursue his lifelong dream of becoming a flying monkey on the Wicked Broadway Show.

Not that being a flying monkey wasn't hard, but Ren didn't have the talents for the role.

"So you're what... together?" Takarada asked. "And she didn't fly into a panic as soon as you told her of your feelings?"

Ren shrugged. "We've both done a lot of growing up. I think... I think we have a shot."

The president leaned back and lit a cigar. "Of course you have a shot," he said, after blowing out a plume of smoke. "Two young people like you... if you didn't make it, what's left for the rest of us? But tell me... did you tell her everything? Was she alright with it?"

"Only a little bit. About my mother being sick and about the fact that I need to finish this role before I can face my parents again."

"Will you be able to? Is Kuon finally quiet?"

Ren hesitated. Part of him wanted to say no, that it was impossible to lay his past to rest, that it would always be too dangerous. But another, the one born last night, was optimistic.

Takarada scrutinized him as he deliberated. "She really does love you, doesn't she?"

"I don't know," Ren said. "She... she wants us to try. That's something, right?"

"That's everything, coming from her. I know that when she's around, you'll keep a lid on Kuon, but..."

"But?"

"You haven't told her everything, have you?"

Ren didn't answer. He tried swallowing down the sudden anxiety that threatened to overcome him. Just thinking about telling her everything – about his past, his being Corn, and Rick – it made him sick. More so when he remembered her telling him how sick she was of lies. God, what would she do if she discovered that he lied to her – had been lying all this time? She would never forgive that.

"You will have to, you know," Takarada said. "You can't possibly keep everything from her."

"I know," Ren said. "Just... please, don't tell her everything just yet. Let me do this at my own good time."

Takarada sighed and set his cigar aside as he considered the younger man's request. Experience (and a little bit of world-weariness), made him want to refuse. But Ren was doing so well... surely, he could be trusted.

Right?

"Fine," he said, at length. "But if you haven't told her everything before you need to get on that plane to America, I won't answer for what I'll do."

Ren rolled his eyes, thinking that if it came down to the president to intervene, the world must really be coming down to an end.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! Or any of the other books/works referenced here. This is a work of fiction only.
> 
> Takes place after chapter 188.
> 
> This is a repost. See the link in my bio for the original, flaws and all.

Time moves in strange ways. On set, it is just a part of the job - compressing days, weeks, years, into a short montage; inciting incidents that leave characters cracked open and festering and developing for many weeks before they are back again, ten years later, ready for their revenge; or a single day, stretched over many, may weeks. To Tsuruga Ren, time was always a very malleable concept… and yet, suddenly, he was finding that he had none of it.

The feeling had started with his father’s visit, but in the past few hours, it had grown by a million times, making him antsy and more than a little eager to leave the set. Which was hard enough, considering how high spirits were on set, and with no manager or Setsu to smooth out the tensions, everthing felt like a giant personalities crash.

“No shadow today?” Director Konoe asked, on a rare moment when the two of them were alone. 

“She has business to attend to. Thanks to you.”

The director gave a wan smile. “I would be remiss if I let a talent like that without acknowledgment.” Then he sighed. “Although her absence is sorely felt.”

And he was only their boss.

Despite all the problems, though, Ren managed a full day of shoots without getting in trouble, or stepping on anybody’s toes, or even scaring anybody half to death. Black Jack, or Cain Heel, or whoever he was playing, was subdued. One might even say - calm.

There was that funny thing about love, again. 

But as the day wore on and time - real time - began to press on him, some old worries reared their heads again. How had Kyoko’s screen test gone? Was she able to take it where she wanted, or had Kijima flustered her again? When would it be a good time to call? Would he be able to do it as ‘himself’ or would he have to stay in character, to maintain some level of propriety? 

And then, beyond them, the steady thrum of the President’s warning. 

If you haven’t told her everything before you need to get on that plane to America…

He probably didn’t mean for it to sound so ominous - his own Grim Reaper outfit had probably been an unfortunate coincidence - but Ren had to wonder. When did Takarada Lori do anything by accident?

It doesn’t matter, he told himself, whenever the worry threatened to overwhelm him. I will tell Kyoko everything. Once that first talk is done…

Yes. Everything else seemed easier by comparison. 

Or at least that is what he told himself to get through the day.

Then the shooting wrapped up and he switched his phone on. No calls from “Setsu” - she had been serious about not interrupting him on set. But there was one message from his boss, one line, stark and scary in its simplicity.

_ Come see me asap. _

*

Meanwhile, across town, Kyoko bowed to the casting directors, trying to keep the grin off her face. Pride was a terrible thing, and no-one should take that much of it in their work… yet even as they made noncommittal sounds about the outcome, she felt the excitement fizzing through her like champagne. She’d done it. It was over. And it went better than she expected.

She was dialing Ren’s number as she was leaving the building, oblivious to everything and everyone around her. It didn’t matter who might hear - she would just speak in English and substitute in the words ‘brother’ for ‘senpai’ and no-one would be the wiser. She hoped they would get a chance to speak in private, later on. Speak and… and…

“This is Nippon National’s answering service. The number you are trying to reach is not available.” 

The sharp beep of the message service jerked her out of her thoughts. Frowning, Kyoko cut the call off, and consulted her watch. The shooting should have been over for the day, but then there was no telling how many takes they had to do, or if there was a debrief at the end of the day. She tried to ignore the grudges muttering in her ears that he had come to his senses and realized this could never work out. Tsuruga Ren was many things but she would not have opened her heart to him if she suspected him to be shallow.

“Kyoko-chan!”

And speaking of shallow…

“Kijima-san,” she said, turning. “You left abruptly.”

Her fellow actor jogged up to her, looking a little bit red in the face. He had left abruptly - he’d seemed eager to get away from her as soon as the casting directors dismissed them. She’d been rather shocked at his rudeness - shocked and annoyed at having to make excuses for him like he was a child. But she was pleased with how things had gone, how she had managed to control the mood from slipping too far into the romantic. Why on earth was he so displeased at that?

“You… yes, yes, I suppose I did.” He paused, gathered himself. “Kyoko-chan, that reading was… rather strange, don’t you think?”

“Strange?” She blinked.

“That… you… I mean to say, you interpreted the character so aggressively. I didn’t know— I don’t think that is what the filmmakers wanted.”

Oh, what they wanted, is it? The grudges reared up. Not what you were hoping for? 

“I felt the specifications I was given were rather ambiguous,” Kyoko said, keeping up the polite facade. “I thought it might be a safe bet to go down that route. Given the character’s backstory.”

“Of course, of course, but Kyoko-chan, you should also consider the bigger picture.” Kijima leaned in. “I mean, who’s to say how the character can change over the course of a movie? And how other characters might help them change? It’s not very fair to take that away from her, is it?” 

Once upon a time, she’d watched a film where every line the characters spoke had a double meaning. Now it seemed as if she’d fallen straight into the world, except Kijima’s true meanings were completely senseless to her.

“I’m not sure you will get the part,” he said, after she failed to respond. “I mean, no offense, but I didn’t want you getting your hopes up needlessly.”

“No, of course not,” she said. 

“You should embrace the opportunity to learn from this. Directors like a flexible actor.”

“I see.”

“I’m only telling you this to help you out, as a senpai and everything. Other reading partners might not be so kind - they would probably try to tear you down, or blame you if they don’t get the part.”

She grit her teeth, and bowed slightly. “I am very grateful for your guidance. Thank you for taking the time to teach me.”

He laughed, relief etched onto his features. “Now, now, no need for formalities! I’m not concerned with my performance - I just wanted you to be prepared for the outcome.”

*

It took a few more minutes, with Kyoko dredging up patience and serenity from some deep well inside her soul, before she could rid herself of Kijima. He’d been determined to bestow more of his wisdom on her - all the while insisting that they go out for a meal - and eventually she’d had to make up an appointment with Sawara-san to get away from him. Thank goodness for traffic, she thought, as she got on her bike. She could always trust herself to get faster from location to location on her own.

Unless, of course, she cared for the company more than she did for speed.

Her fury wasn’t completely unexpected - although it was not an emotion she was used to feeling about her work. Criticism was part of the deal - she’d gotten plenty of it, and she was likely to receive more, being a fledgling actress. But Kijima’s words cut her deep, and she wasn’t sure why.

She thought the reading had gone well. She felt like she had a sense of Midori and had gotten into character well. She was happy that she’d managed to make him act along - even though his confusion hadn’t been entirely made up. She was pleased with the scene, and she couldn’t help but feel - there was that pride again - that he was just being bitter about not getting his way.

But surely Kijima-san was a professional… was it possible they both got it wrong?

Kyoko was suddenly even more eager to see Ren - not just for obvious reasons, but because she wanted his perspective on this. (And, yes, she had to admit to herself, she was hoping he would soothe her a bit. Even if he wasn’t entirely unbiased.)

She got inside the LME building with a few minutes to spare before the scheduled meeting with the director. The secretary waved her through and she even stopped to say hi to Jelly-san, who was busy with another client. 

Then she came through the door of the inner office and felt her heart drop.

“Kyoko-san,” the President rose to greet her. “Welcome.”

She returned the greeting, and came inside. Ren was there, in a chair across the desk, but he didn’t come to her, didn’t even turn his head. He was still in his full Cain Heel gear and - though she couldn’t be sure without seeing his face - his mood was completely and utterly that of Black Jack.

Had she missed something? Was she meant to come in character? 

Slowly, she shut the door and then stood there, awkward as a schoolgirl.

“Sir,” she said. “Senpai. Am I… am I late?”

“No, no. You’re as punctual as ever. Please, take a seat.” Takarada Lori pulled out a chair for her. It wasn’t until she got close that she realized the President was wearing a sombre gray suit and tie - no menagerie, no flourishes, no marching bands. It was a conservative, normal look - and yet it unnerved her more than any dramatic outfit he’d donned.

“I heard you had a reading today,” he said, taking his seat behind the table. “How do you feel about it?”

“I… I’m not sure.” She tried to catch Ren’s eye again, her dread growing by the second. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to speak to you more this morning.”

“Not at all. Not at all. In fact, it’s probably a good thing—”

“President,” Ren spoke for the first time. The sound of his voice made Kyoko shiver. “If it isn’t too much trouble…”

“Ah, no, of course. Jelly will be ready for you in just a minute. Kyoko-chan,” he said, making her jump. “This wasn’t expected but I’m glad we have a chance to have a sit-down tonight.”

She racked her brains for reasons why that might be the case. She couldn’t imagine why that might be the case or why he would call her in like that - she thought she and Ren had agreed to tell him about their changed relationship status together - but from the way her senpai was acting, she had a feeling that would not be the case. 

“Is it…” she started “Is it about the assignment I have with… with Tsuruga-san?”

“I’m afraid so, Kyoko-chan,” he said. “There’s been a… circumstance that requires a change of script.”

What circumstance? Her mind flew to the revelations from last night, Ren’s mention of a dying parent, and she felt her throat tighten. Still unsure how to proceed, she asked what the change of script is.

“I’m afraid that Cain will have to carry on by himself,” the President said. “You performance as Setsu has to end.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! Or any of the other books/works referenced here. This is a work of fiction only.
> 
> Takes place after chapter 188.
> 
> This is a repost. See the link in my bio for the original, flaws and all.

Ren left before she and the President were finished talking, and from the way he avoided her eyes throughout, Kyoko could tell, he would not be trying to speak to her later. She tried to remain calm and pragmatic, but all she could manage was listen to what Lori was telling her, and nodding along - yes, she understood the new time pressures would make it hard for their schedules to match; yes, she was aware that the Black Jack shoots would get even more tense and that Ren would have to devote himself to it completely; yes, she absolutely agreed, he did very well without her and thus he could proceed without a ‘translator’. 

Yet, her heart was too soft, and too unused to being in the open. It trembled with every new emotion. She felt paper-thin, ready to bleed at any point. 

It was at once familiar, and not. The same dread she felt with Sho, the same desire to please, but amplified a million times because - Kami help her - she guarded herself for so long.

“Kyoko-san?” 

She blinked, met Lori’s eyes. “I— I apologize, President. I… I didn’t understand your question.”

“Long day?” he asked. The sympathy in his eyes could have undone her, and she felt an irrational pang of anger. Not because she appeared so soft, but because he wasn’t who she wanted to comfort her. 

Get a hold of yourself, she thought. Be a professional.

“Yes, sir. That is exactly what it has been.”

Lori frowned - the same frown he gave her whenever she was surly, or mean, or plain non-Love-Me-like. But instead of lecturing her on how important it was for her to be pleasing to others, he said, “I understand that you and Ren have had a conversation.”

So he did know. Kyoko swallowed past the panic in her throat and nodded. “We did.”

“And he has made you aware that his feelings towards you are… more than just a senpai’s affection for a kouhai?”

In another set of circumstances, Kyoko would have laughed. Such a roundabout way to say something so simple. And yet, now, it felt like more and more doublespeak, and not enough clarity. “He told me he loved me. And I told him… I told him I love him back.”

It felt like stepping off a cliff, but it still felt natural. Even with the cold shoulder he’d given her, it still felt like something she could say. 

At least Lori didn’t seem surprised. “I apologize if this change of plans makes things more confusing for you, Kyoko-san. I hope you understand, your part as Setsuka bears no reproach and I would have been happy to let you carry on.”

She nodded, thanking him for the compliment. But she couldn’t help thinking of a few times when her acting hadn’t been completely up to scratch. Quite a few times indeed.

Had Ren mentioned them to Lori, when he had also informed him of the changed status of their relationship? Or had the President really not known? Unconsciously, she glanced at the small curtained area in the office, where Jelly and Ren had disappeared. Would he face her after this or would he run away?

“Kyoko-san,” the President spoke, and she turned to give him her full attention. “I know that Ren isn’t very good at expressing himself in certain regards. Believe me, if there was enough time for this, I would put him in Love Me! myself, so that he could at least remember his manners.” Kyoko smiled at that, imagining her very tell, very broad senpai in one of those ridiculous jumpsuits. As if reading her mind, Lori smiled too. “I’ve known him for a long time, though. I have confidence in your relationship.”

“Thank you,” she said, feeling awkward. It seemed a strange thing to say…

Then again, she realized with a start, he wasn’t calling her Mogami-san anymore. Something had definitely changed, at least as far as the President was concerned.

A thought occurred to her, and since it was the day to be bold, she asked him if this new situation had influenced his decision at all.

“After all the fuss I’ve made about your attitude, putting obstacles in the place of love would make me the worst sort of hypocrite, wouldn’t it?” Lori said, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “As far as LME is concerned, if you are old enough to get marrier, you are old enough to make your own decisions. In life as well as in love.” 

There was a distinct gap in that statement. “And as far as the rest?” she asked.

“As far as the rest of the world, you mean? Well…” Lori picked up his teacup, frowned, set it down again. “As far as the rest of the world, putting two red-blooded young people who love each other in hotel rooms for extended periods of time might be considered… a little too unorthodox. Even for me.”

Kyoko pursed her lips. That hadn’t stopped him before. In fact, she was pretty sure the President had been putting them in all sorts of situations together that might have been considered unorthodox by the rest of the world. But then, she had been rather vocal about her dislike of love in general. Other actresses would have been put under more scrutiny, but she was Mogami Kyoko - founding member of the Love Me! Department, impervious to the charm of rock stars, actors, and beagles alike. She was the one who could be counted on to remain strictly professional.

Until now.

“I guess there will be a lot of questions being asked,” she said. “Regardless of what happens.”

“Not necessarily. What you do in your own free time is none of the company’s business,” Lori said. “But… I would be remiss if I didn’t advise caution for a while.”

“Of course.”

“And I wouldn’t want you to do anything you didn’t want to do.”

She bristled a little at that. She had handled herself with him, hadn’t she? More often than Lori would know, she’d been in compromising situations and Ren hadn’t pushed her further than was appropriate.

Some of her resentment must have shown, because Lori said, “I’m sure this sounds silly to you, especially in light of everything that’s happened. But Ren is going to try and finish a movie shooting in half the time he was expected to. It is going to be a rough time — and there are some things that he should deal with in his own good time.”

“Is this about his family?” she asked. When Lori raised an eyebrow, she added, “He told me a little bit. He said his mother is ill.”

“His mother is about to go through a trial, that is true,” he said. “But Ren has some related issues that he will need to deal with. And I’ve got a feeling both of you will need to be careful of your distance in this time.”

Kyoko nodded, numbly. 

“Of course,” the President added. “What you do in your own time is none of our business.”

“No,” Kyoko said. “Of course not.”

*

A part of her wanted to stay behind and wait for Ren and Jelly to be done - to force some kind of sconversation, even if it was a strained one. Instead, she went to speak to Sawara-san and let him know of the reading test outcome (good, although Kijima-san’s prognosis hadn’t been favourable). She went to the Love Me! room, to talk to her fellows (only to find the place empty and cold). Some paperwork had arrived for her, courtesy of Kato-san, but she didn’t want to get emotional in the LME building, where anybody could walk in and see her. 

So, with one glance up towards Lori’s office, she packed up her things and left for Daruma-ya.

“Kyoko-chan!” Okami-san, at least, was glad to see her. Even Taisho cracked a rare smile. She didn’t realize, until she went through the door, how happy she was to be back, how much she missed them.

She wanted to tell them everything. It had been too long.

It was also the dinner rush hour and though Kyoko wanted rest, she wanted a distraction more. The restaurant was familiar. The restaurant had rules. No messy feelings or men who gave mixed signals and who - upon reflection - were not very nice to leave her hanging without so much as a glance or a word of acknowledgment, especially considering the morning they had had. (Kyoko really didn’t want to think about that morning, it was only making her more cross.) Give her difficult customers and screaming toddlers any time - at least those were straightforward enough.

That’s not very fair, the fairies suggested. Unfortunately, Kyoko was siding with her darker side - she was not in a mood to be fair. Especially after what Kijima had said to her.

Good, hard work was where it was all at. Good, hard work, and the simple reassurance that, if all else failed, she could be a waitress and live comfortably for the rest of her life. 

Daruma-ya kept relatively normal hours - they didn’t stay open until too late on weekdays, although there were always things to take care of after the last customers had left. She was more than happy to take over from Okami-san, putting away chairs, wiping down tabletops, scrubbing the floor until she could see her reflection in it. Taisho was almost finished in the kitchen when she came in to offer her help. “No need for help,” he said. “You should sit down, Kyoko.”

But she didn’t want to sit down. Sitting down meant thinking, and she didn’t want to think (or overthink) this day more than she already had. Looking around for any chores she might have missed, Kyoko noticed a car parked in the street right next to the kitchen. A very familiar, very distinctive car.

“How about the trash?” she asked. “It’s garbage day tomorrow, isn’t it? I’ll just wheel them out for you.”

“Alright, but…” but then he just shrugged - recognizing a lost cause when he saw one.

*

“Were you going to stay there all night?” she asked, stepping outside.

It would have been poetic - if a little embarrassing - if only the neighborhood cats heard her. But Ren was there in a flash - helping her pull the restaurant’s rubbish bins to their proper place in the alley.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want to interrupt you at work and I wasn’t sure if I could just waltz in through the front door after hours.”

“I’m not sure skulking in the back is any better,” Kyoko said, dusting her hands off. “But you were probably right about not coming in while there were customers.” The kind of furore he would cause just by being there… she felt her stomach drop at the idea, and, not for the first time, wondered what she’d gotten herself into. The President was right - she wasn’t a recognized actress, but Ren was, and anything he did would attract attention. 

Not that right now, she could remember why they even bothered. He looked as lost as she felt.

“Would you like to come in now?” she asked, finally. “I can make you some tea, or…”

“No, I… I think it’s best if I didn’t.” He gave a wan smile. 

“Why?” she felt herself grow angry. Had he really reconsidered? Decided she wasn’t worth it after all? So what? Who needs him? Cried the grudges. 

I do, the heart responded. I do.

She felt a treacherous pinprick of tears and forced herself to face him. “Look, if you’d rather go home and prepare, you should do that before you exhaust yourself. My day was fine. That guy you were worried about kept his hands to himself.”

“But are you alright?” he asked. Something about his tone made her look up. The Emperor of the Night was staring back. 

*

It took all of his willpower to keep his hands to himself; to maintain a polite distance, and plausible deniability for the sake of anybody who might look in. 

Mind you, Ren thought, how much plausible deniability can be maintained in a back alley is a very subjective question. Her comfort matters more.

And she didn’t look like she wanted him anywhere near her. 

And much of it was his own fault.

Unacceptable. He’d promised himself he was done being so juvenile - he would make things right, even if it meant double-guessing everything and looking uncool while that happened. He’d actually been giving himself a pep talk in his car, working up the courage to call her, when Kyoko had opened the back door of the restaurant and stepped out.

She met his eyes now. He’d turned up the intensity, but damn it, he needed to see her. He needed to apologize properly.

“Are you alright?” he asked again.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I told you—”

“You said your reading test went well, and that Kijima kept his hands to himself. You didn’t say if you were alright.”

“What difference is there? I should be asking you—” she stopped, gathered herself “Don’t worry about me. I’m not broken up about Setsu or anything like that. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” he said, more vehemently than he intended. She started, face growing pale. 

You idiot, he thought. Stop scaring her.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout, I didn’t…”

Her hands uncrossed - she had them wrapped around her middle the whole time - and she took a step towards him. Her mask slipped, and he saw the hurt there - and the next thing he knew, he’d closed the space between them, gathering her in his arms. He didn’t check his strength as he pressed her to him, but she held him tight, too - and for the first time since he stepped into Lori’s office tonight, he felt relief. 

Like maybe, just maybe, they would be able to hold themselves together through this.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! Or any of the other books/works referenced here. This is a work of fiction only.
> 
> Takes place after chapter 188.
> 
> This is a repost. See the link in my bio for the original, flaws and all.

Some days were better than others.

Though he used to think the term was only reserved for the set of a medical drama, Ren started wondering if maybe it didn’t also have some bearing on what was going on in his life. Certainly, there were times when he would return from a shoot and feel like he could never film another scene again; and then there were those when he was unable to sleep, buzzing from the thrill of a job well done, of knowing what was to come in the morning. 

Some calls were better than others, too.

When the President had delivered the news that his mothers’ treatment had to be pushed forward, he’d also made it clear that he could no longer serve as a go-between for his parents and himself. “You’ve made the decision to go back to them,” he’d said, just a few minutes before Kyoko had come into the office. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking it would be easy. You need to prepare for that, too.”

At the time, Ren had acquiesced, not because he shared the older man’s concerns, but because he thought the path of least resistance was best considering all he still had left to take care of in Japan. 

He had not thought how it would feel like to hear his father’s voice every night… or for his mother to have a direct contact with him again.

“Kuon, you didn’t pick up your phone this morning. Were you at a shoot?”

“Yes, Mum. Sorry about that.” 

“I know you’re doing your best, darling, but please do try to get in touch as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Mum.”

On some days she would be so energetic and sparkling, it was easy to pretend it was as before, that the dire health warnings had been another game, that they had all the time in the world. 

“What is this movie about? Tell me about the character? What are you doing to get into his skin?”

On other days, the realities of her illness would be all too stark - if not in her own voice, then in that of his father. “She’s not doing too well, Kuon,” he would say, quickly stepping out of the room. In the distance, he could hear someone shouting. “I’ll call you later.”

If he caught her when things were particularly bad, she would cry down the line. “Why are you not here, yet? Why are you still hiding from me?”

Or, worse still. “This is punishment. God is punishing me for every time I said I was sick…”

On days like these, he never called Kyoko afterward - not because he didn’t need her, but because he was afraid of what he might say, or how he might behave. 

He still hadn’t told her everything about his parents.

*

If his co-stars found his sister’s disappearance strange, they never let on, and Director Konoe didn’t give them enough time to gossip on set. The time lost because of the drug accusations, combined with Ren’s restricted timeline, meant that they were filming at breakneck pace, re-shooting key scenes with Murasame’s stunt double and sometimes working through lunch. Ren had never been more tired, or more hungry in his life, but he forced himself to persevere. He had to.

The only thing he looked forward to were Kyoko’s phone calls. Whenever he felt like he was losing track of Tsuruga Ren, whenever he thought the last few years had all been a dream, hearing her voice, telling him about her day, made things snap back into focus.

“Are you cooking?” she asked him one night, about three days into this new routine.

For a second, he was tempted to say no, just to have her come over and look after him. Surely she could borrow a jacket and a wig and visit him in the hotel? It wasn’t so difficult, especially with her new levels of acting skills. But Kyoko was busy again with Box-R and her Love-Me work, and she, too, needed her rest.

“I’m having a lot of miso soup,” he said. “I even got the hang of not mushing up the tofu.”

She had sounded duly impressed, and he congratulated himself on having fooled her. That was, until the next evening, when he returned to find a week’s worth of meals and groceries waiting for him in the fridge, courtesy of LME. Kyoko, it seemed, had called around and arranged for him to at least have food on hand. 

He could have gotten annoyed with her. Then again, he hadn’t exactly given her reasons to believe he would look after himself in her absence, had he?

That was a good day.

*

Kyoko, for her part, found that good days tended to mix in with the bad, not very cohesively, but all in all, they tallied up in an even way. Box R was going well, even with the odd snags in production. Her work as a Love-Me! employee was still difficult. There were no calls about her playing Midori, but she also hadn’t seen Kijima either. 

And she got to see Kanae and Chiori more. That was its own reward.

“So, did you… talk? With your ‘friend’?” Kanae asked.

“Yes,” Kyoko said. 

“And you two… worked out an agreement?” They were taking a break from watching dramas and it was Chiori’s turn to get drinks. 

“We’re together, Moko-san,” she said. “Or… well. Not in front of the public but… in private.”

Kanae frowned. “I can imagine why you’ve made that choice. I guess it’s wise, given how media can latch onto a relationship. But is that… okay with you?”

Chiori returned and they resumed watching, which was a good thing, because Kyoko wasn’t sure how she ought to answer. Did she think it was wise for her and Ren to keep their relationship private? Yes, absolutely. Was she happy about this state of affairs? It seemed like she should be, and yet…

It had been seven days since she’d last seen him. Seven days since he had held her outside of Daruma-ya, seven days since their almost-nightly phone call ritual had started. In that time, she had no way of checking up on him, and he remained, as ever, a perfect gentlemen whenever he spoke to her. She had no proof other than her own wildly convoluted thoughts… and yet she was certain that things were getting worse for him. The way he avoided certain topics, the shifts of tone whenever the conversation leaned towards his parents. She knew there was something going on but he wouldn’t open up about it, and she had very few people to ask.

Maybe she was watching too many romantic dramas. Maybe it was all in her head.

But she was starting to listen more and more to her gut, and her gut told her something was wrong. She couldn’t talk to anybody about it, had no way of confirming what she suspected. The only person who ever seemed to have the full picture was Lori and she couldn’t just walk into the President’s office and have a heart-to-heart. (Well… she doubted Lori would mind. But she wouldn’t live down the embarrassment.)

Kanae might have been a good confidant, but she herself said she didn’t have much relationship experience. Kyoko wasn’t sure how much of this was appropriate to share.

In the end, she just kept to herself, finished her notes, and then prepared to leave. 

“I’m okay, Moko-san,” she said, when they were alone next. “I promise.”

Kanae sniffed. “Well. So long as he’s not forcing you to do anything… but judging by that blush, I guess that’s not a problem.”

Kyoko could only whimper.

*

Of course, Kanae’s mind had immediately jumped to sex, and why wouldn’t it? After all, what else was there to worry about? The president had had a similar thought, and so had taken measures to separate Ren and Kyoko, physically at least. Nothing worse than a sex scandal to muddy the waters.

She used to think the same way, too. But three days after that conversation with Kanae, she got a glimpse of something else. Something… wrong.

As usual, she got back to Daruma-ya after filming, donned her uniform, and helped serve until closing time. Then she breezed through cleaning, keeping an ear out for her phone to ring. He usually didn’t deviate - he called her when both of them would be free, unless he was too tired. She was hoping he would.

“You’re working hard, Kyoko-chan,” Okami-san said, looking in as Kyoko put the last chair back into place. “You should rest more.”

“I’m fine,” she said. “Just fine.”

“You never said how your family visit went. Did you have a good time?”

Yes, and found out I’m rich. 

She couldn’t bring herself to say that, either. 

It occurred to her, then, that this might be a good thing to talk to Ren about. How strange it all felt, knowing what she knew now. How she could afford almost anything she wanted - makeup, clothes, time off work and school - and it felt strange. Not a relief - not even remotely. Just strange. 

But time went on and on, and he wouldn’t call. Finally, she decided to dial him herself.

“What?” 

Kyoko was taken aback. It wasn’t Cain Heel. Not Tsuruga Ren. Not Black Jack. But it was his voice. Just a different affliction. “Ren?”

“What do you want, Kyoko?” He was speaking in English. Perhaps that was what had thrown her. A distinct American accent - Californian, if her voice training was anything to go by. But those were minor things. He didn’t just sound angry. He sounded murderous.

“I just wanted to hear from you,” she said. “I was waiting.”

“I was tired,” he said.

“I’m sorry. Would you like to talk about it?” Without thinking, she switched to English as well.

“Nagging, Kyoko? Is this the sort of thing I am to expect from you now? Will you ask me whether I’ve eaten next?” His tone was mocking. “I’m fine. You sound fine. Can we cut to the chase here so that we can both go to bed?”

She was about to apologize for bothering him, but it was as if her hands had a mind of their own. She pulled the phone away from her ear and hung up.

Then, changing quickly into her street clothes, she went to get her bike.

*

It was a bad day.

A really bad day.

In fact, he could go as far as saying it was the worst of them all.

Kuon was feeling the pressure. And Kuon was not good under it.

His phone buzzed with a text. He squeezed his eyes, bracing himself, before reading it. Not Kyoko - that was good news. Not from his mother - that was even better. 

She’s not herself today. —Kuu

The sad part was, Ren mused, this was exactly how she was, or at least that was how she was when she didn’t get her way. As a boy, when he wouldn’t eat, she would pile and pile his plate with food, getting more agitated the less he ate. As a grown man, she piled her feelings on and on until… until…

You don’t know, he thought. You don’t know, because you ran away. The more food she piled the less you ate; the more feelings she had, the further you ran. You never let yourself figure out what follows after ‘until’.

But he was about to.

Cringing, he sat up and took stock of himself. He’d drawn himself a bath earlier, but it had grown stone cold. Was it worth heating up? Or should he just crawl into bed and forget the day had ever happened.

Would he be able to?

Would Kyoko?

Ren glanced at his phone screen. She hadn’t bothered saying goodbye, and she was probably stewing. He could call and apologize.

For the umpteenth time. You just never stop messing it up, do you? 

Maybe this was a mistake. Yashiro and the President were both wrong. They didn’t know how he was, how incapable of love he truly felt. Maybe it would be better to let Kyoko go, let her be angry and drift away, before things got well and truly bad.

It seemed like the logical thing to do. So why did it feel like his guts had been ripped open?

Ren sighed. This wasn’t going anywhere. He’d be better off just sleeping forever. 

No sooner had he decided it when there was a knock on the door. Had he ordered dinner? No, there was plenty of food in the fridge still - another delivery from his management. He hadn’t asked for anything else and no wait staff came this late at night.

He didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to hope.

Yet, when he opened the door, there she was. Toned down and slapdash, yet still giving off a Setsu vibe. As if she had known this might happen and had made sure she had a disguise on hand if she wanted to sneak into the hotel.

Looking at him up and down, she frowned. “Well,” she said at length. “Won’t you let me in?”

I shouldn’t, thought Ren.

But he was not in the business of denying her anything.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! Or any of the other books/works referenced here. This is a work of fiction only.
> 
> Takes place after chapter 188.
> 
> This is a repost. See the link in my bio for the original, flaws and all.

“You could ask her to come with you. When you leave.”

Yes, the idea had occurred to him.

“So why don’t you? She’s right there.”

Ren sighed, and stroked Kyoko’s back as the two of them lay in bed. (Fully clothed, for his benefit as much as hers.) The alarm clock would go off any minute, and she would have to get ready and leave. 

Lately, he’d started having conversations with himself - not with Kuon, not really. If anything, his inner voice had started to sound suspiciously like President Takarada. Or possibly even Yashiro. Hopeful. Excited. Determined to make the most of a situation, no matter how grim or unappealing it seemed.

The illusion, of course, was fragile - one little phone call could shatter it to pieces. Yet it kept on reappearing, rising from the ashes like a phoenix… drawn by the voice of a girl.

He couldn’t imagine going back home without her.

He also couldn’t imagine telling her everything before they left.

“So break a few rules. Let it be a surprise.”

Oh, yes, some surprise that would be - Kyoko, meet my mother. My father you already know, and please don’t worry about calling him Otou-san, he would be absolutely delighted if you did.

Ren shook his head, just as the alarm went off. Kyoko shifted in his arms, then sighed. “Five more minutes.”

“I’m not sure the director will let you have that,” he said. “Or the President, for that matter.”

Her eyes opened and she shot up. “What time?” She looked around, chest rising and falling. “Where’s the fire?”

“No fire, no fire.” He reached out and stroked her arm. “Just me.”

She groaned and sank back into the pillows. “At least there is a drill in case of those,” she said, clearly working up the energy to rise. “No such luck with filming.”

“Not at all,” he agreed. 

As they rose and got about preparing for their day, he couldn’t help but catch sight of himself in the mirror - rumbled, red-eyed, and tired. Filming was wearing him ragged, but it was also coming to an end. No amount of snuggling would help that. Somewhere in the back of his mind, his inner voice hissed ask her one last time, before slinking off completely. 

Ren cringed. It would be a long day.

Or maybe it wouldn’t. He watched Kyoko splash water on her face, then go about pinning her wig into place. Her movements were quick and precise. Practiced. She was still innocent in many ways - no other person would come to him in the middle of the night so trustingly - but she wasn’t a little girl anymore. Her grudge against Fuwa and her quest for revenge kept her in perpetual adolescence, but she was starting to let go of it. Ren could see it now - the person she would become, someone confident and powerful, a force to be reckoned with. 

Would she be by your side, though, if you keep on lying to her?

No, he thought. No, she most certainly would not.

Bracing himself against the wall, he tried to keep his voice light as he said, “Filming is going on schedule.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” she asked, re-emerging from the bathroom. 

“If it all goes according to plan, my part will be wrapped up in a few days or so.” He coughed. “Then I need to leave.”

“It will certainly create a legend,” she said. “Around the character, I mean. I bet it would be entertaining to watch.”

“Yes,” Ren said. “Well…”

“Do you think Cain will have to attend the premiere? It will be a few months ahead, but I bet—”

“Kyoko,” he said. “I’m not sure if attending the premiere will be possible.”

She stopped fussing with her disguise (she’d been adjusting her piercings, tugging at her own lips and distracting him terribly.) Her whole body went very still. “I… see,” she said.

He hated - hated - how miserable she was, and how well she was hiding it. Crying and tears he could handle. Emotion - in all forms - was a clue, and something he could follow along with. “There are no guarantees for time,” he said. “And it is difficult to tell when I’ll be free, when I’ll be able to get in touch.”

“Of curse. That’s perfectly understandable.”

“Kyoko, please don’t try to be brave on my account,” he started, but she held up her hand.

“Senpai,” she said, sternly. “I’m not being brave. I understand what is going on.” Then she looked down. “Anybody would do the same thing. It’s only the dutiful thing to do.”

“I want you to come with me.”

That came out wrong. He could tell from the way her eyes widened, her breath hitched. “I know it’s on a short notice,” he began. “I know it is probably a considerable expense. I’ll cover it. I’ll cover plane travel, and accommodation, and if you have to take time off work…”

“You’re right,” she said. “It is a short notice.”

He stopped, unsure what to make of her tone. Kyoko sighed and rubbed her temples.

“I said the wrong thing.” Ren wished he could hit himself. “I’m sorry. I—”

“Please. Just… just give me a second.” She squeezed her eyes shut, as if warding off a migraine. “Senpai—”

“Ren.”

“Ren, I want to support you, I really do.” She dropped her hands and looked at him. “But that’s not how it works.”

No? He used to think money could solve everything. 

“I just took a holiday,” she said. “And I’ve signed filming contracts with Box-R and other… other projects. I can’t leave on a short notice, to Hokkaido or Okinawa or…”

“It’s… a bit father than that,” Ren said, slowly.

The look she gave him was suspicious. As she had every right to be. “How much farther?” she asked.

“I—”

“Ren. Just tell me.”

“Across the ocean,” he said. “My family is in America.”

“America…” she spoke the words as if she was testing out the sound.

“Yes. California, to be precise. But they’re going to Austen for my mother’s treatment.” Ren coughed. “You don’t have to fly out with me, you can come later. When you can take a longer vacation. We’ll find things to do. America is so vast, you can sometimes drive for hours without seeing another person. I can—”

“Ren. Stop.” 

He let his hands drop. He’d been gesticulating like some caricature, as if he waved his hands around and made the right noises he could trick her into thinking this was something it was not. Get a grip, man, he thought. 

“So. That’s a no, then,” he said.

“Ren, I don’t even have a passport,” she said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Or did you forget the part where I’m a 17 year old without a guardian.”

Yes, he did. He forgot with an alarming frequency.

Shamed, Ren hung his head. “You’re right. I’m a moron. I didn’t even think.”

“I wasn’t trying to get you to beat yourself up,” she snapped. Coming up to him, she took his face in her hands. He must have looked particularly miserable, because Kyoko’s expression softened. “I’m not doing this to be mean. I would love to be able to support you. But there are some things… there are some things I cannot do. And some things I can’t just drop.”

The tension in his chest eased a bit. The terror - a blind, horrible terror - that had seized him when she’d said no - it started to fade. Reason began to prevail again - not the harsh mistress he imposed on himself in moments of failure, but someone else. Someone kinder. See how she feels, she said. Learn the limitations.

“I understand. I’m sorry I put you in an awkward position.”

Kyoko sighed, and leaned in for a quick kiss. “It won’t be like this forever,” she said it with determination. As if she could bend fate itself to her will. “Even if we are apart for longer… we’ll find each other again.”

As they had already. She didn’t know it, but it made his heart leap. “When you come to see me, I’ll greet you with the biggest, gaudiest bouquet of flowers I can find,” he said.

That got a laugh out of her. “No, you won’t.”

“Biggest, gaudiest, pinkest thing you ever saw,” he said. “With lace and funny plastic fairies struck throughout. Its ribbons will have ribbons. And I will stand there, at the airport, while your arrival time gets pushed further and further back, because there is always a delay.

“Who knows?” he said. “Maybe I’ll wear a pink jumpsuit too.”

Kyoko laughed so hard her wig fell off.

*

The chuckles followed her through most of her day - in fact, they came in hand when Natsu had to simulate a proper character breakdown and go into full scare mode. It did her good, love. Shockingly, it did her good.

But underneath all that merriment, there was a darker edge to everything. Ren’s mood was good this morning - the diametric opposite of how she’d found him the night before. He’d gone from freaking out about her not being able to come with him - to America, of all places - to making jokes about emasculating himself on her behalf. She knew his mood to be mercurial - but now it had gone from unpredictable to impossible. She had to admit - to herself, at least - she was a little bit relieved that she couldn’t go. 

Because she was afraid.

For all his attempts to soothe her, she was afraid.

That day, when they finished shooting, she sat in her dressing room, plagued by thoughts. Old habits made her look for Corn, hoping that the ritual, the weight of the stone in her hand would help soothe her. 

She’d found it shattered. 

At first she thought she’d gotten things wrong, that she’d taken a piece of costume jewelry and it had broken in her pocket accidentally. But no - she looked for Corn everywhere. There was only one place it could have been, and in its place now sat shards.

Kyoko believed in fairies. She also knew a premonition when she saw one. Taking out her phone, and feeling more than a little bit faint, she dialed Kato-san.

She hadn’t lied to Ren. There was no way she could get a passport in time to join him on his flight home. But she had guardians. It was time they stepped up to the part.

And if they refused? The grudges were not usually the cautious ones, but even they seemed worried. 

Kyoko sighed. If they refused… there was one more person she could technically go to. And she wasn’t looking forward to it.

It would be worth it, she thought. I could travel on a short notice. I could always use that.

*

Motion begets motion. A careless whisper here, a misplaced phone there. A moment’s distraction at the wrong place and wrong time. An idea is just an idea until it finds a fertile mind to plant itself in. And grow. 

And then grow some more.

In a land full of open spaces and sunshine, a woman sneaks out for a walk.

She’s beautiful, and she is famous, but her health has been subject of speculation and there is more than one person wanting to talk to her about it. Off the record, of course. She’s all charm and smiles, a little bit baffled - just a little bit - but not enough to raise the reporter’s fear. She wants them playing her tune - she has to play her part. Luckily, she’s had a lifetime of practice.

Across the ocean, a different sort of sun shines over the buildings. An actor who doesn’t know if he is an actor anymore contemplates his future. Not in a cafe - too crowded, and it makes him melancholy, thinking that he might have to trade places with the server sometime soon. No - he’s chosen a nice shady bench, with a good view of the hotel district. Good place to lick one’s wounds. And look for weaknesses.

In that same town, a rock star puts away his guitar for the first time in a while. 

And gets a call from home.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! Or any of the other books/works referenced here. This is a work of fiction only.
> 
> Takes place after chapter 188.
> 
> This is a repost. See the link in my bio for the original, flaws and all.

“Shooting’s finished. Finally.”

Kyoko smiled, then took her time answering the text while the secretary pretended to ignore her. It was a good day to linger. It was a very good day indeed - even if all she was typing was congratulations.

It was okay - Ren responded within seconds. “Heels celebrating tonight. Egg burgers?”

She laughed at that. Which was probably too much happiness for the secretary to handle, because she said: “Kato-san will see you now.”

Kyoko nodded her thanks, then sent Ren a quick thumbs up. If things went well, they’d have two things to celebrate tonight - possibly even three, if she was so lucky.

“Mogami-san,” Kato said, standing up to bow to her. “How are things with you?”

“Very well,” she said. The words came out of her mouth easy - shockingly easy. She was sure nobody had the right to be so happy.

“I trust that you managed to sort out your friend’s… misunderstanding?” 

That was one way of putting it.

“I’m very grateful for your help.” She bowed again. 

They made small talk for a while, as the secretary came in with the tea and served them. Another great luxury - she was sure he had more important clients to deal with at such a time. And yet, he seemed perfectly happy to ask her about her life, whether she was doing successfully on her own, whether the arrangements for her accessing the trust fund had gone well. It wasn’t until they exhausted that topic that Kyoko said:

“Kato-san, I must confess, there is an ulterior motive to my visit.”

“An ulterior motive?” He seemed amused. “I don’t think anybody has put it quite this way before, Mogami-san.”

She did blush this time. “Yes, well… you see, my job sometimes requires a lot of travel. Not that I would presume that a novice actress like myself would receive many offers, but there is an off-chance I might have to travel abroad in the near future.” The amount of uncertainty in that sentence made her want to cringe. What would the screenwriters say? “I… in short, I thought it was best that I get a passport. And I will need a permission from my guardians or my father to do so.”

Kato-san didn’t respond immediately. He waited until she was finished talking, then, without changing his facial expression, took a long sip of tea. “May I ask,” he said, setting the up down, “what made you think about the passport in the first place?”

She balked. She’d expected a simple nod and maybe making arrangements to liaise as quickly as possible. Never such an unusual question. “Well, as I said, my job…” she stammered, then stopped.

Kato-san waited for a beat or two, before saying, “Forgive my impertinence, Mogami-san, but up until this point you worked in the industry without the need of a passport or traveling overseas. And with your eighteenth birthday so close, it does seem a bit out of character. Of course, if you want to go ahead with this, we can help you, but it never seemed to be a matter of particular urgency to you.”

No, it hadn’t been. Kyoko wanted to kick herself for not thinking ahead of this.

“Do you… think it would be a great problem?” She hated how small her voice sounded. What happened to being a strong, confident woman?

Thankfully, Kato-san seemed sympathetic. “I’m sorry if this sounded judgmental, Mogami-san. It’s just that the way your relationship with the Fuwas seems to be, it is possible they will dig their heels in just to spite you. My… interactions with Setsuie-san haven’t been the most positive, in the past,” he said, scratching his ear. Kyoko was suddenly reminded of Yashiro, how he would sometimes fidget to hide any strong feelings. She had a strange feeling that the two of them should meet sometime. “On the other hand, your mother’s instructions regarding your father were very clear - unless you explicitly requested his name, we were not to contact him under any circumstance. The final choice is yours, of course - you may well want to take that step now. But I would be remiss if I didn’t make sure everything was alright with you first.”

Kyoko didn’t know how to feel, in all honesty. Part of her wondered why this conversation was being had in the first place. She knew this wasn’t a drama - it was unlikely her father was the king of a country, or a popular TV star, or anything like that. On the other hand, a daughter coming out of the woodwork was drama enough on its own.

The fairies urged caution and patience. Ren would be fine without her for a few more months until she was able to travel without anybody’s permission. 

The grudges were less kind. Your father only has to sign a piece of paper, they said. He hasn’t been around all your life, what’s wrong with one little request. They whispered about how beautiful the women in America were; how, as soon as he was there, Ren would no doubt come to his senses and realize she was just a plain, inexperienced little girl.

She looked up. Kato-san was still waiting for her reply.

“To be honest,” Kyoko said, “I have someone in my life. They’re not from around here, and they’ve got some rough times ahead of them. I don’t know whether I can afford the plane fare—” she swallowed “—but if the need arises, I want to be there for them.”

Kato-san nodded. “Very well. I shall go and get your documents then.”

As he rose, he added. “Mogami-san? Your dedication to your friends is admirable.” She waited for the ‘but’. None came. Instead, Kato-san bowed at the waist, and left the office.

*

Ren was fidgeting. 

He considered chain-smoking to alleviate his nerves, but with all his mother’s health problems he was more put off from cigarettes than ever. Besides, he was hoping to kiss Kyoko at some point during the night, and she wouldn’t appreciate it if he tasted like an ashtray. 

They’d tweaked their dress code over the course of the afternoon - a game he’d suggested, to see how well they could tell each other from the crowd. He’d gotten a reddish-brown wig and yellow contacts from Jelly Woods, with the assurance that it was a role he’d never played before. He’d figured it was for one of those dorks-to-princes dramas, or some such - the ones Kawagoe Michika would star in - so he’d dressed for the awkward part. He was willing to bet anything, Kyoko had never seen him wear a sleeveless vest before. Or horn-rim glasses, for that matter. He’d wanted to laugh at his reflection, when he was done. He’d looked like a 100% dork.

On the other hand, he wasn’t sure where Kyoko was or what she’d come as. A part of him wanted her to show up in her most princess-y outfit, ribbons and tulle and tiaras, just for the fun of it. But he knew she didn’t have items like these on hand, and he doubted the studio would let her borrow any. At the end of the day…

“Senpai?”

He turned, starting to say that she wasn’t to call him that, and his throat went dry.

Her wig was pitch black and arranged into a complicated twist, showing off her face and long neck. The kimono was also dark - a near black purple with pink blossoms embroidered on the collar, and sleeves that reached to the ground. 

In the end, she’d gone for a princess look alright.

Just not the one he’d imagined.

“That’s twice you see through a disguise,” he managed.

Kyoko smiled, amused. “Yes, well… I had an advantage.”

Ren took off his glasses and gave them a quick rub. “I’m embarrassed now, I don’t know what self-respecting restaurant will have me.”

That got another laugh from her, and an assurance that if worst came to worst they’d go to Daruma-ya. Ren felt like he might fly - the dreaded shooting was over, he was free to dress as any character he liked, and he could finally take the girl he loved on a date without pretending she was his sister. 

But strangely, Kyoko didn’t seem to notice the joy of that moment. She was, in fact, rather subdued - she let him talk, kept herself looking demure and polite, and when he tried to take her hand, he realized with annoyance both were clapped in front of her. As if she was still a hotel maid. 

He hoped that she would relax more when they sat down, but when they found a restaurant, she stared at every part of the room, except at him.

At length, he said, “Kyoko. What’s the matter?”

She started. “S…sorry. There’s just… I’ve had a sort of strange day.”

“Well… I think I can relate to that,” he said. “In fact, I believe it is now my turn to be a sounding board, if you want one.”

She chuckled. “Sounds like a difficult thing to be. What’s on the job description?”

“Oh no, you’re not derailing this conversation.” Carefully, he slid across the booth so that their sides were touching. She blushed but, thankfully, did not move away. “If you don’t want to talk… I understand, but if you want to share what’s on your mind… I’m here to listen, okay?”

“It’s not really a big deal,” she said. “I just went to see Kato-san today, to talk about getting a passport.”

All his good humor went out the window. Suddenly, he wasn’t very hungry at all. “And?” he asked, hoping his voice didn’t betray him.

“He was very nice,” she said. “We discussed my options - the Fuwas were the obvious one, but I didn’t want to ask them.”

“Nor should you have to,” Ren said.

She paused. Then, “I saw my birth certificate.” Her fingers drummed against the table, then she started drawing patterns with her index. “I didn’t recognize the name. Never even heard it - which I guess makes sense, if she wanted to forget him entirely.”

Which was all well and good, but he couldn’t figure out what that meant for him. Then he kicked himself - some sounding board he was.

“What did you do?” he asked.

“Kato-san said he would contact him, officially. It seems silly - I mean, I could have just waited.” Kyoko sighed, then shook her head. “Nevermind. It’s done. Kato-san said the two of us might not even have to meet.”

Yet the notion of that was making her anxious - he could tell as much. “Do you want to meet him?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” She admitted, leaning a bit into him. He took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her shoulders, while she rested her head against his chest. “It feels so strange,” she whispered. “I never thought of him before. I didn’t think I would want to meet him, if I had the chance. I don’t know what I would say to him if I did. I just… I’m afraid of what would happen, if I let him go.”

“I understand,” he said, kissing her hair. “I understand.”

They stood this way for a while longer, embracing each other. Their food seemed to lose its appeal - he’d wanted them to celebrate, yet somehow, nothing seemed appetizing. All he wanted to do was to hold her - all night, if he had to.

You have to come clean, Kuon reminded him. You have to do it.

Yes, that was the only thing he had to do. She’d done so much already - exposed herself to so much potential grief - he had to be honest with her. But how would he start such a conversation? Speaking of fathers, you have already met mine. In fact, he asked you to play me when he visited Japan.

He wanted to die with embarrassment just thinking the words.

Mulling them over didn’t yield any better ones, either - as they picked through their meal, then had the food wrapped to go, then on the walk across town. He had one more night left in Cain Heel’s hotel, although strictly speaking, he didn’t look like Cain Heel at all. Would they be okay, sneaking in? Kyoko seemed to have finally relaxed, but for some reason, he couldn’t imagine just shoving her against the door and kissing her senseless like he had done so many other nights. Something about her tonight made him want to treat her tenderly. Like she was a princess.

*

Kyoko, for her part, wished she could just relax and enjoy herself. It was a rare time they had together - rarer still, if it turned out her biological father was someone even Mogami Shinobu didn’t want to associate with. 

Ren was lovely, at least. Ren was so kind, and gentle, and…

She felt so happy. She was just plain happy. It was so rare, and he seemed to love her, no matter what mood she was in, if she was switched on at all or not. Once, she felt like she had to perform for everybody, never letting the ball drop, lest they see her as anything less than perfect. Now… now it felt okay.

She wanted to tell him that. His hotel was coming up, and she really, really wanted to find a way to say what she wanted to say to him before they had to part for the night. Then commotion on the other side of the street drew their attention, and all her intentions disappeared.

Because there, in the festival hall across the hotel, a limousine had pulled up with the logo of Sho’s management company, and wouldn’t you know it, the bastard was stepping out now - to the chorus of a thousand fangirls squealing. It was eerie - like looking at herself a million times over - and it was also nerve-wracking, because he could turn around and see her at any minute. There was no doubt about it - as stupid as Sho was sometimes, he could recognize her in or out of costume in seconds.

Luckily, Ren seemed to have realized that too, because he had her hand in his and was leading her into another street - not too fast, but not too slow either, making sure she could keep up, but without stopping for directions. They both knew the area - they knew where the service entrance was, and the quickest route to the back stairs. 

It wasn’t until they were on the staircase - hidden from cameras, and any potential passers-by - that Kyokoro looked at him. His eyes were wide behind the lenses, and one of his contacts had fallen off. But his real eyes weren’t brown, she realized. They were blue.

A crystalline, almost transparent blue. 

They took her breath away.

“I don’t think they saw us,” he said. “Are you okay?” 

There was so much she didn’t know about him. He kept things so close to his chest yet he never let it get too far. He always respected her - her boundaries and feelings - without making her feel like she owed him something in return. And now this.

In the span of a heartbeat, she realized there would probably be parts of Tsuruga Ren she might not understand or learn about. And she accepted that.

Instead of answering, she reached out, cupping his face in her hand. Her touch made him start, and the hand holding hers went very warm. 

“Kyoko? Are you okay?”

“You make me so happy,” she whispered. It felt… not like acting, this wasn’t acting, but she did seem to leave her body all of a sudden. The fairies and grudges fell silent, and all she could think about was how he made her feel. “I’m so glad we had this time together.”

He trembled, as he reached out to take her other hand. “We’ll have more time,” he said, kissing it. “I promise you that.” He kissed it again. Then, because she was tired of her hands getting all the attention, she raised herself on her tippy toes and smashed her mouth against his. 

She would not have lasted very long, straining like a ballet dancer, but Ren’s arms were around her in an instant, lifting her up and holding her close. Her legs, as if they had a volition of their own, wrapped around his waist. He made a sound at the back of his throat - pain? No, his response was too warm for that, which suited her just fine. She felt like she was spinning out of control.

Then a door banged somewhere and they pulled apart, realizing two things: they were out in the open, and there was no way of explaining away the position they were in.

But when he set her down, Kyoko did not stammer out a goodbye or leave. She removed a scarf and a cap from her purse, then, once the two of them had covered their heads, took his hand and led him upstairs to his room - their room, because she had as much claim to it as he. She opened the door, and she shut it, and turned the lock. As she heard the click, she felt a stab of apprehension - just a small one - but it washed away as she turned and let her scarf - and her intricate wig - fall on the floor.

Ren took off his glasses. His mismatched eyes - how could he not realize he’d lost a lens? - were asking a question.

He opened his arms to her. Without hesitation, she stepped in.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! Or any of the other books/works referenced here. This is a work of fiction only.
> 
> Takes place after chapter 188.
> 
> This is a repost. See the link in my bio for the original, flaws and all.

She thought about seeing him off. Taking a car to the airport, using up every last precious minute they had together to its full benefit… uncharacteristic and expensive as it would be, she still wanted it. And - though she would have never admitted it out loud - she held onto hope that she might be able to get on the plane herself. That Kato-san would find her father and she would obtain a passport quickly. It only seemed fair - all her life, she’d had doors closed in her face because she was too poor, too tired, too busy to enjoy herself. Did she not deserve this one good thing?

And Kyoko was the pragmatic one. Ren entertained notions that she could easily get in the States on a tourist visa and then work out the rest. As if borders were a mere inconvenience that could be navigated at will!

But, it quickly transpired that it would not happen. Even a modest sendoff - which she had thought the trip to the airport might be - was too complicated with her new filming schedule (the thriller director called an affirmative) and the need to keep a low profile. Further, Ren had to undergo some sort of dramatic transformation right before the flight - which had something to do with the low profile, but moreso that he looked like his passport picture. 

She did not ask the specificities of that.

In fact, she asked very few questions in the days leading up to his departure. Later, much later, she would look back on this period and wonder if maybe she should have spoken up sooner - about the way he packed up his place, the casual mention that the flat might become subrented in his absence, about his nervousness every time the phone rang. Hell, she should have asked him why he had to change his appearance when his biometrics could not have altered since he arrived in Japan. 

But Kyoko argued it all away. She pinned it on time constraints, and nerves, and family drama. She assumed that, given his poor attention to detail, Ren had simply not read his renting contract and had just been informed that his home would be sublet if he left abruptly. 

It didn’t concern her. After all, she had her own place.

Even if she didn’t spend a minute more in Daruma-ya than she absolutely had to. She’d told Okami-san that she would be working around the clock and, since it was not unusual, her landlady had seemed to accept it. Kyoko felt a pang of shame at the lie, but justified it, telling herself the same thing, over and over again. He’s leaving soon. Who knows when we’ll see each other again.

And in the end, she didn’t even get to see him off.

When Tsuruga Ren left Japan (not even as Tsuruga Ren), she was across town, in her pink jumpsuit, tending to another spoiled movie star, her serene mask firmly on even as her eyes tracked the clock. His departure time came and went. When she got back to LME, there was a message waiting for her in her phone, letting her know his plane was up in the air and flying over the Pacific. 

She cried herself to sleep that night.

*

Unbeknown to her, Lori was also mourning Ren’s departure - by catching Yashiro up on everything his client hadn’t been able to say in the past few years.

To his credit, the younger man took it in stride. Mostly.

When Lori told him about Ren’s misadventures on his last set, saved only by Kyoko’s interference, Yashiro had stood up from his chair (where he’d been contemplating the fact that he’d been chauffeured around by the son of Hizuri Kuu himself) and started pacing the room. 

“So, in summary,” he said, “my client was in very real danger of going to prison - under an alias that wasn’t even his true alias - and he was rescued in the nick of time by a seventeen year-old girl who put herself in harm’s way on his behalf.”

“That is not what happened, Yashiro.”

“With all due respect, President, it is exactly what happened.” He walked back to the table, and braced his hands against the desktop - it was the most aggressive that Lori had seen him in a while. “Three years. Three years, I did everything I could to help him. I didn’t ask questions out of respect for his wishes. I went along with all your schemes because I believed you had their best interests in heart, and would not let them be put into danger.”

Lori wanted to agree with him.

Not just to put an end to the argument, but because Yashiro was right - Kyoko’s involvement with Murasame had been dangerous, and the gamble she’d taken with the private investigator could have ended really badly. He could have pointed out that the two had gone behind his back - ignoring an express order to lay low and wait. And there was no doubt that they’d been wrong. If they hadn’t been, Yashiro would have been brought up to speed from the beginning. Instead, Ren had fed him half-truths and incomplete information.

And for all his frustration, Lori had to admit, the boy had learned from the best. 

“They took a calculated risk,” he said, at length. “One that paid off.”

“This time.” Yashiro started pacing again. 

Lori let him work out some of his energy, before asking, “What’s truly bothering you? It’s clear that there is more than just being kept in the dark.”

“Being kept in the dark can be bad enough. Do you know if Ren told Kyoko everything? If she knows who he is?”

Lori pursed his lips. “No,” he admitted. “He was evasive about it until the end.”

“How willing are you to bet he hasn’t told her everything?” Yashiro asked. “The two of them have been inseparable lately, President. He took her out to dinner when the Black Jack shooting ended, and she’s been over at his place every free minute since.”

“Kyoko is seventeen.” He felt old and tired just saying the words. “As far as I’m concerned, if you’re old enough to be married, you’re old enough to make decisions about your life.”

“I’m not naive,” Yashiro said. “And heaven knows, I’m not trying to imply that what they’re doing is shameful. For crying out loud, we were encouraging them every step of the way. But the two of them just underwent an extremely stressful ordeal. They’ve been living in their own little world, saving each other, and now the fishbowl has been overturned and they’re out on their own.”

Lori took his time answering - mostly because he wanted to make sure he understood what the younger man was getting at.

“You’re saying that they may not be prepared for the reality of a relationship?”

“I’m saying… I don’t know what I’m saying anymore. Just that I’m scared for them.” Yashiro started pacing again. “Kyoko-chan needs a manager. She’s needed one for a long time now, but now… she can’t rely on Sawara-san, when he’s got the whole junior department to look after.”

“Nobody knows for certain that the two of them are together,” Lori said. “They’ve been very discreet.”

“Disguises only go so far. And how long do you expect them to have to put up these pretenses? Until they’re married? Until they have children? Until they retire?” He was hamming it up, of course. Nobody could be expected to keep a relationship on the down-low for so long, and have it last. But still, his words hit the target. 

“I’ve already got some names in mind,” Lori said. “We shall have to find the best fit, of course…”

“Of course.”

“But I would be remiss if I didn’t make you the offer first.”

Yashiro went very, very still. “You… want me to be Kyoko’s manager.”

Lori leaned back in his chair. “Tell me something. Why do you love this job?”

“What—”

“Not everyone would have made a career in wrangling talents and soothing egos. For many people,” the President went on, “for many people, your job would be inconceivable. Distasteful, even. And yet you persevere. I’m wondering why that is?”

Yashiro let out a long sigh. For a second, the President thought he would not respond. Then the younger man started talking.

“When I was younger, I thought my life was over.” He held up one of his hands, looking at it like it was a foreign object. “My colleagues, they think it’s hilarious how phones and computers stop working around me, but try to get a decent job these days without any IT skills. I would have to wear gloves all the time, even if all the work I could get was managing the till at a restaurant. And then I was given an opportunity in this business.” He tucked his hands in his pockets, and smiled. “There’s still a lot of tech, but at least here, nobody raises an eyebrow at eccentricities. And there is so much more to the job than just setting up meetings. I may be hopeless with technology, but I’m good at people. Actors like Ren and Kyoko, they have a hard enough time doing their job without all the interpersonal drama off set. I can handle reporters, and I can handle directors; I can smooth egos and make sure there is enough room on the parking at the end of the day for my client to leave peacefully. I do this job because I’m good at it, and it allows others to do well. If that’s inconceivable or distasteful, then so be it.”

“Right,” Lori said. “So why are you surprised I’m making you this offer then?”

“I just wonder whether managing both of them would be the best idea.” Yashiro narrowed his eyes. “Unless Ren is thinking of making his stay abroad more permanent.”

The President didn’t answer immediately, but the look on his face was grim. “At this point, there is no telling what he will do,” he said. 

Which was already bad enough.

*

She could not remember the last time she had wanted to sleep in. 

Even as a child, it seemed like she was up and running as soon as she opened her eyes - hurrying to get ready for school, for work, for school again. 

That morning was no exception - life did not grind to a halt because Ren was out of the country - but Kyoko felt low on energy, heart and head heavy, as though she hadn’t gotten any sleep. The only highlight was a text from Ren, telling her his plane had landed safely and that he was on his way to see his mother. She wished he would call… but it would have been too early, and it was hard enough to keep track of things with the sleep she did get.

She wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“You look like a space cadet,” Kanae said, as the two got ready in the Love Me! room.

“Don’t I always?” Kyoko asked, hoping to divert the conversation.

“Not like this.” Her friend narrowed her eyes. “You run into doors all the time, sure, but something’s missing today. There’s no… sparkle.”

Great. Just what I need. “I’m just tired,” she said. “I’m sure in a few days, I’ll be better.”

“You shouldn’t be skipping on your sleep,” Kanae said. “Please tell me you’re at least hydrating properly.”

“I am, I promise.” They were standing, back to back, so that they could each change in private. She expected some rebuttal, but when her friend didn’t say anything, Kyoko turned. “Moko-san?”

Kanae was looking at her legs, and frowning. “Did you cycle in today?” 

Kyoko looked down and this time she couldn’t help it. She winced.

“That’s just…” she started, then stopped. What could she say? I fell out of a bed… a very tall bed. “Yeah, I cycled in.”

But her friend was already giving her that look… that same look Kyoko couldn’t stand. Sometimes, she swore, Kanae could read her mind, and she didn’t want to know what she thought of the contents.

“Kyoko…” she started. Then, seemingly changing her mind, she said, “You’re being safe, right?”

“I… yes, of course.”

“And the… other person. They’re treating you well, right?”

What happened to not doing things unless you can talk about them? But she didn’t want to make this any more uncomfortable, so she just said, “Yes. He’s treating me very well.” Then, unable to stop herself. “But he had to leave for a bit. His family needs him.”

If Kanae had any thoughts on the matter, she kept them to herself. Mercifully. “Well,” she said, at length. “So long as you know, you can say no. And if you ever want to talk about it… I’m here.”

“Talk about what?” Chiori asked, breezing into the locker room. “Kyoko! Did you cycle in?”

But before Kyoko could make up any more poor lies, her phone rang, saving her any further embarrassment. “Kato-san,” she said, buttoning up her jumpsuit with one hand before going into the bathroom. “How are you?”

“Very well, Mogami-san.” Kato-san coughed. “Are you able to talk?”

“Yes, yes.” She tried to calm herself down, failed. “Are there news?”

“In a manner of speaking.” His tone was neutral - there was nothing there to indicate something was wrong. Yet, she tensed up. 

“Were you… not able to get a response to your query?” she asked.

“No, we did find your father,” he said. “My office reached out to his, and he responded yesterday.”

Yesterday. For a split second, she forgot it took months to get a passport and felt her anger rise up. She could have been on the plane with Ren! She could have been with him now. Then the grudges subsided, because Kato-san hadn’t answered the most important question of all. “Did he not accept… what you told him?”

“We had a long talk,” Kato-san said. “He had some questions. We arranged for him to come to the office this morning to view the documentation and verify it for himself. It was all to be expected,” he added in a gentler tone. As if he could sense how much those words were hurting her. “The meeting’s just finished. I thought I would wait until he was gone to give you any news.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Her stomach sank… and kept on sinking. She had a very good idea what the man’s response had been. I don’t believe it. I can’t have a daughter. This actress must be trying to extort me. Else this is a prank. “What did he say?”

“He wants to meet you.”

Kyoko swallowed… but her throat was suddenly dry. “He… he what?”

“He would like to arrange a meeting,” Kato-san said. “He agreed that the birth certificate was genuine, and he seemed startled when I showed him pictures from your dramas.” She winced again. She wondered which pictures he was referring to - Mio? Natsu? Bo? “Mogami-san? You don’t have to agree to a meeting if you don’t want to.”

“Did he say he wouldn’t sign?” It was cruel and selfish, but that was all she could think about. The idea of meeting a stranger, even if he was her father, made her sick to her stomach. 

But she would do it. For Ren, she would do it.

“He didn’t say much. To be honest, he was a bit difficult to read.” Kato-san coughed. “But you don’t have to meet him if you don’t want to, Mogami-san. And if you do, we can make sure it’s on neutral ground.”

Neutral ground sounded nice. Neutral ground would be fantastic.

“Great. Yes. Please do that, if it’s not too much trouble,” she said.

“Of course.” There was a long pause. When he didn’t speak, she had to check if he was still there. “Yes, Mogami-san. I was just wondering… but it doesn’t matter.”

“What is it?” she asked. 

“I was just looking through the morning papers. But it doesn’t really matter, I suppose. It’s just a very strange coincidence.”

Dread built up in her, as she left the bathroom. “What coincidence?” she asked. Kanae and Chiori both looked up, twin expressions of confusion on their faces. “Kato-san, I haven’t read any papers this morning. What news are you talking about?”

Immediately, Chiori got her phone out and started tapping away, logging into the Internet. Kyoko waited with baited breath.

“It’s just, someone’s translated an American article in the Tokyo daily. You’re familiar with Hizuri Kuu, of course. His son’s just returned home, and his mother gave an exclusive interview about the time he’s been away. It wouldn’t have caught my eye, usually, but Hizuri Julie also talked about his most recent project.”

Chiori gasped, then, hand trembling, turned her phone for Kyoko to see. She skimmed the introduction and the bombastic title (Prodigal Son Returns) to the part of the interview where Julie listed her son’s recent project, where he starred in not one, but two of the main roles. 

“Black Jack,” Kyoko whispered.

“The same movie you worked on,” Kato-san said, seemingly unaware - or was he - of the bombshell he’d just dropped. He said some more things, but they were lost in the roaring in her ears. 

Her brain scrambled for foothold. It could have been a coincidence - a huge coincidence - that she had been on the same set as the legendary Kuon, and not known it. But even as she thought about the faces of the cast members, she dismissed them. Handsome, charming, talented, great at sports, there was only one man on that set who ticked all those boxes. One man who had played two (or three, or several) roles at the same time. And only 48 hours ago, she’d left his apartment, wishing him a safe journey.

And even if her brain rejected those arguments, it wouldn’t matter. Because there was a picture of Kuon in the article - a picture from a test screening years ago, but even the time couldn’t hide those features. Or the bodily proportions she knew by heart.

From Chiori’s screen, unmistakable and clear as day, stared Tsuruga Ren.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! Or any of the other books/works referenced here. This is a work of fiction only.
> 
> Takes place after chapter 188.
> 
> This is a repost. See the link in my bio for the original, flaws and all.

Takarada Lori did not shout.

Takarada Lori did not lose his temper.

He was easy-going and reliable, and he did right by his talents, which is why he could run the company he did without resorting to any despotic behavior. It was part of the deal and people were more than happy to accept it.

Which was why his staff - sans Jelly Woods - scattered like flies when his voice rang all over the top floor.

“DAMN IT, KUU, YOU TOLD ME YOU TRUSTED HER!”

Kyoko, coming up from the stairs, had to flatten herself against the wall to avoid the stampede. Her heart was in her throat - from the climb, from the news, from nerves and worry - and, had it not been her determination to see the President, she would have turned around and ran with everyone else. 

Even now, listening to her boss launch into a diatribe from the other side of the corridor, she wanted to make herself as small as possible, to disappear. But the thought kept knocking around her head, over and over and over again.

Hizuri Kuon was on the Black Jack set. Hizuri Kuon is back with his parents. Hizuri Kuon…

She clutched her mobile phone harder, before flipping open the screen to take one more look at the photo. It hadn’t changed. The features were still the same. 

Hizuri Kuon.

Ren.

She pushed herself off the wall, and, on shaky legs, started walking towards Lori’s office.

*

“Boss, I swear to God, I don’t know how this happened!” 

In other circumstances, it would have been funny. Even now, papers would have paid good money to see Kuu - Kuu the unflappable, Black-Hole Stomach Kuu - sound like a flustered debutante. But the President was not in a laughing mood. Every phone in the building was ringing, and he had a mess on his hands. 

And why? Because Julie couldn’t wait one more day for her precious baby to be home again.

“She told me she was in the hospital all day,” Kuu went on. From the other side of the line, there were signs of pacing, someone going back and forth into a very small room. “The nurses were supposed to follow her everywhere. I didn’t know she’d left the building, let alone that she was giving exclusives to a reporter.”

“Paparazzi weren’t invented yesterday. You and Julie know that well enough to be on your guard,” Lori snapped.

Shameful silence. Because, really, there was no answer to that. Letting your guard down, flapping your mouth - it was the sort of thing you would expect from a newbie, not two of the most successful people he had ever worked with.

“What I want to know,” Lori went on, when Kuu didn’t speak, “Is why she felt like she had to blow his cover. Why, after so many years, did she suddenly start talking about his projects?”

“Boss…” Kuu groaned. “Boss, I don’t know. I honestly don’t.”

More silence. “I read the article, though. She didn’t say he was Tsuruga Ren. Just that he was on the set of that movie - and he was in triple disguise then.”

“Right, because it’s not like we had a reason to do that, too.” 

“He wanted to make a career for himself,” Kuu said. “He wanted to make us proud without relying on our names and reputation. He wouldn’t even come see us until he was sure he was a good enough actor to stand on his own ground. Julie always thought that…”

“That what? He would shrug off the disguise as soon as he achieved those goals? That he would build up a life, only to discard it and run back? She knows better, Kuu. So do you.”

A long, drawn out sigh. Lori wondered where Ren was - if he had access to the news at all, in this remote clinic for the rich and famous - and if he did, what sorts of things was he going through. “Does he know?” Lori asked. 

“He’s seen the original article,” Kuu said, slowly. “He was annoyed with his mother, but they were prepping her for surgery, and it didn’t seem like the time to argue. He… he doesn’t know the news has reached Japan. Neither did I, until you called.”

“Well, it’s here now, and my phones are already blowing up.” They’d done their best in creating Cain Heel, with his fictional background and fictional sister, but the hotel room had been paid through LME, as had the expenses, makeup, and repair costs (after Ren’s tussles with Murasame on set). Had it been any other movie - any other circumstance, Kuu would have been correct to assume the news wouldn’t travel past their own American circle of friends, and whatever the tabloid’s circulation had been. But when the Japanese papers had caught wind that Kuon - who had the reputation of being a mediocre actor at best - had starred in a major local production, that had gotten the questions going. 

And wasn’t Black Jack also that set where they kept breaking up fights between the actors?

And wasn’t one of those actors accused of possession?

And didn’t it turn out that another actor had set him up?

Well. 

There was your perfect storm in the making. 

“Boss,” Kuu said, “Boss, I’m so sorry. I thought… Julie said all the secrecy would be bad, that it tied everyone’s hands. She thought Kuon wasn’t allowed to speak for himself, and that playing so many roles would end up badly for him. I never assumed she would actually undertake something like that.”

Lori sighed. The truly sad part was, Julie was right, but her actions had come too late - by the time she’d had her interview, Kyoko had returned and had leveraged her own Kyoko magic for Ren’s benefit - getting him out of trouble and back on track to finish the production in time. All for the sake of his return home. Had she just been a little more patient, all of this could have been avoided.

“You need to tell him everything,” Lori said, at length. “And then all of you - and I mean it, all of you - need to lay low. Put away the electronics, stay away from the windows, meditate, count sheep - whatever you do, do not make any statements before we figure out how to handle this.”

There was a knock on the door. Lori turned to tell off whomever had come in, then stopped as soon as he recognized Kyoko. She looked pale as death - he didn’t need to know why she was here.

The sight made him even more furious - and he didn’t even realize this was possible.

Kuu was talking again - something about Ren not liking this. Well, it was a shame - the younger Hizuri would have to find a way to deal with his temper tantrum all by himself. 

“I don’t care what you have to do to make it happen,” Lori said, his voice cold. “But you both need to step it up. This is not just about your family, Kuu.” And then he added, in a lower tone. “Not anymore.”

*

They were gathered in less than an hour - her boss, her friends, and Kyoko. Kyoko, who, aside from asking if it was true, hadn’t uttered a word since her arrival. 

She didn’t know what she expected to happen - maybe that Lori would reassure her everything was alright, that it was all a giant misunderstanding - but of all the times she’d wished she had been wrong, this was the nightmare that had to turn out to be true.

Lori had looked miserable when he’d confirmed her fears - and then, in a voice so gentle, it broke her heart, said: “Mogami-san… I’m sorry to drive you away from your duties, but I will need you to stay with me for a while.”

As if she could go to work, ask people to “love her!” after what she’d just learned.

Numbly, she’d handed him her phone. Then the two had sat in silence, watching as the minutes ticked by, lost in their own private world of misery. 

Only once more did Takarada speak in their time alone together. Only once. 

“You and Ren. You became intimate recently, did you not?”

Kyoko had opened her mouth to answer, and found it difficult to breathe. Hanging her head in shame, she prepared to receive a scolding. But all Lori had done was say, gently, “I suspected as much.” Then, “I’m sorry, Mogami-san. I’m so sorry.”

She’d wanted to say that she was the one who was sorry - that it was all her fault, her and her stupid new confidence, but the stupid lump in her throat didn’t let her. And then the others had started to arrive, and she had to put all her energy into not breaking down. 

At least they didn’t send her off home, or to another anonymous hotel. 

She would not have lived down that humiliation.

Yashiro was there first, phone at his ear and his address book out. As soon as she saw him, she wanted to scream - his presence surely being an indicator that someone else had connected Kuon with Ren - but to her shock, he was busy rearranging her schedule, not his own. Box-R, Dark Moon promotion interviews, that new movie she’d gotten the call for, even Bo - he was canceling her gigs one after the other and telling anybody who had an issue where to go.

“Mogami-san is very sorry to have to miss this,” Yashiro was saying, “and she hopes you will accept her apologies. But you know yourself that people get sick. Yes. Goodbye.” He paused and gave her a wan smile. “You are now officially laid out with a strip throat. If anybody asks, just pretend you can’t speak, okay?”

She liked the sound of that. She could imagine it very easily.

Kanae and Chiori were in next, their own day having been freed up under the pretense of a “Love Me!” emergency meeting, courtesy of the President. For his part, Lori had gone over the entire floor, disconnecting the stationary phones and ordering the entire company to go on a “no comment” answering mode if anybody so much as breathed the word “Hizuri”. Jelly Woods had come in briefly to give her a hug, before heading off for supplies - being the least conspicuous of the lot, she was the one who had been charged with the supermarket run. 

Kyoko thought that was all of the troops gathered, but then Kato-san had come through the door. “You know,” he’d said, looking around the room, “for a company trying to contain a PR leak, you’re doing a very good job of showing you have everything to hide.”

Yashiro, who was drinking water at the time, did a spit take worthy of the movies. Takarada, Chiori, and Kanae had given him the same murderous look. 

Kato-san ignored them and went straight to Kyoko. She welcomed him stiffly, and then, not knowing where the impulse had come from, had also reached out and given him a hug.

“I’m sorry that you’re dealing with this,” he said, sounding a little bit choked up. “Let’s see what can be done about it, shall we?”

“There is very little that can be done,” Kanae replied, her voice low and menacing. Kyoko turned to tell her it was alright, that Kato-san had been very helpful in the past, but her friend wasn’t speaking to him. She was speaking to Takarada. “After all, we can only react, can’t we? Until the papers start asking questions, anything we say can backfire on us.”

“Silence can backfire, too,” Chiori said. “If we wait for too long, they can come up with any story they like to fill the vacuum.”

“For now, they don’t have much,” Yashiro said, wiping his mouth and coughing one last time before picking up his phone again. The little device was flashing ominously, even with his gloves on. “They’ve guessed Kuon is Cain Heel, and that he had taken up the disguise to avoid any charges of nepotism. Director Konoe has agreed to withhold comment until we’re ready, but you can tell, he’s not happy about this publicity.”

“Neither are we, but we’ll make do,” Takarada said. “What about the cast? Can we trust that they’ll be discreet?”

“He vouched for all of them.”

“Not for Murasame,” Kyoko said. She hated how weak she sounded. Everyone turned to face her, and she almost broke down in tears again. “He was fired for what he did. The reporters will be talking to him.”

“Murasame has gang affiliations. Moreover, he tried to frame someone for possession just because he didn’t like them. He has all the credibility of a blowfly,” Lori said.

“A blowfly can cause a great deal of damage in the right place,” Kato-san interjected. Kyoko was still holding onto his hand. “What sort of drug did he try to plant, if I may ask?”

“What difference does that make?” Yashiro asked. Ren’s manager (former manager? Kyoko didn’t even know anymore) was looking at Kato-san as if he didn’t know whether to welcome or strangle him. “Drugs are drugs, they’re equally bad.”

Kato-san was undeterred. “Was it weed? Crystal meth? Molly?” 

Her head spun with each word - both because of the thing itself, and how easily her “accountant” said each.

“Cocaine,” Takarada said. “Enough for the police to consider charging him with intent to distribute.”

“Ah, I see. I can work with that.”

Chiori looked like she might keel over in shock. Yashiro nearly did. But it was Kanae who asked: “Okay, what is this about and how does it help this situation at all?”

Kato-san looked around. Kyoko asked if he could sit down. Only when he was comfortable did he say, “It’s true, drugs are equally bad to the police in Japan. But some substances are under stricter control than others. The Yakuza clans have agreements among themselves - no encroaching on each other’s territory, and no mainlining of hard drugs - cocaine, heroine - under any circumstances.” He looked around the room, as if surprised nobody else knew that information. “Surely, in showbiz, you’ve had to deal with something like this?”

“Not with hard drugs,” Lori admitted. “And it doesn’t happen very often.”

“You are lucky indeed, for your talents to be so happy,” Kato-san said, bowing slightly. “I hope my less fortunate experience is of use. There is a reason why the Yakuza stay away from the hard drugs - they attract too much attention. Too much persecutory zeal from police and politicians - it isn’t good for business. This Murasame fellow, he brags about being in a gang - I don’t suppose he’s been stupid enough to mention their names to anybody?”

As it happened, he had - Kyoko had overheard him on the Black Jack set. Kato-san noted down the name, then got his own phone out. 

Lori found his voice in time to ask what he was planning to do.

The “accountant” let out a rare smile. “Hard drugs aren’t easy to come by, even in small quantities. He planted enough to raise alarms with the police - not just possession, but also intent to distribute. Someone, somewhere is going against the grain, and their bosses will want to know who that is. My take is that Murasame-kun will soon be too busy to talk to any reporters - if he isn’t already.”

*

Across the ocean, many time zones away, two men sat. And waited.

Both were blond and well-built. Both had shockingly blue eyes. And, despite the efforts made to cheer the room up - make it look chic and polished for their clientele - they were both markedly uncomfortable. 

Every now and again, the older man glanced up, opening his mouth to speak. Every time, the look on Kuon’s face made him stop.

What could he say? What could he possibly say to make this better?

I’m sorry seemed weak. This will pass sounded insincere and patronizing - even if he was his father. 

You will see her soon, would have probably helped, but it wasn’t a promise he could make, and it seemed cruel to bring it up unless he could absolutely guarantee it.

Finally, he settled on, “You’ve changed.”

Then he immediately regretted it. Of course he’d changed - they all changed. Of all the stupid, asinine…

“In what way?” 

His voice. His son’s voice. He was so glad to see it coming out of his mouth - and not that of some stranger. Kuu never wanted to admit it, but looking at Tsuruga Ren was a little vertigo-inducing. He sounded like Kuon, walked and stood like Kuon, but his face was all wrong, and his expressions were as cold as the Arctic. 

Yet, he didn’t behave like Kuon, and that was what had started this conversation in the first place.

“You’re here,” Kuu said at length. “You’re doing what Boss asked us to do.” 

He’d learned patience. No - Kuu corrected himself, noticing how his son’s fists clenched - no, not patience, necessarily, but restraint. 

It’s not just about your family, not anymore.

Lori’s parting words made him burn with shame. Of course, it wasn’t just about them. There was another person in Kuon’s life, another person who made him want to reign in his emotions far more effectively than his mother and father combined.

“She’ll be alright,” Kuu said. 

“The best specialists in the country are operating on her,” came the reply. “She has better chances than nearly any other woman in her condition.”

“My Julie is a fighter,” he acknowledged. “But I wasn’t talking about her this time.”

Kuon seemed to deflate. His big, strong boy suddenly seemed two feet tall. 

“Kyoko has survived a lot,” Kuu went on. “She’s intelligent and resilient, and she has Boss and everyone else looking out for her. “Even if someone figures out that the two of you are together, she’s not going to let the press browbeat her.”

That only seemed to depress him further. Kuu scrambled for foothold.

“Listen, you’re both adults. You could be married if you wanted to. She’s beautiful and talented and strong and she already calls me Otou-san. There is nothing stopping you from being happy aside when all of this is finished.”

“That’s the thing,” Kuon admitted. “I don’t know if there will be an us left after this is finished.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kuu said. “You treat her like a lady, don’t you? You take her on dates and hold her hand and make sure she’s happy and comfortable and…” He paused dramatically, “Please don’t tell me you were selfish in bed.”

That got him an indignant look. Unfortunately, it was ruined when Kuon blushed like a tomato. “Of course I wasn’t selfish. I would never… I wouldn’t. Not with her.” Then he hung his head again. “But…”

“But?”

“But I don’t know if she will have me after all of this was sprung on her like that. It finally felt like she was accepting me - accepting we’re on equal footing - and then this happened.”

Kuu sighed, and wondered what a wiser father would say in a case like this. He’d met Julie when both of them were on top of their respective careers - which had come with complications of their own, but there was never any doubt that the two were equals. His son and Kyoko - both pathologically self-effacing, believing they did not deserve happiness - were about to enter a hellscape where every media outlet screamed their worst fears at them.

“Listen, I know it’s tough to think about,” he said, even though he didn’t know anything. “But you need to remember, she accepted you. You were happy together. Hold onto that, if nothing else, and let it carry you through.”

Kuon hung his head. “I don’t know if she will accept me,” he said. 

“She already has.”

“No.” He stood and paced the room. “I… I didn’t tell her everything.”

Kuu went still. “Which parts of ‘everything’ did you not tell her?” he asked, even though he knew, in his heart of hearts, what that was. He knew his son, after all. He knew him all too well.

Kuon knew too, and the shame just rolled off him as he said, “She didn’t know my true name. Or who you are.”

Kuu sat back, hands on knees. And said, “Oh, dear…”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! Or any of the other books/works referenced here. This is a work of fiction only.
> 
> Takes place after chapter 188.
> 
> This is a repost. See the link in my bio for the original, flaws and all.

The websites picked up on it first, the various headlines appearing one after another like a chain letter on social media.

Kuon - golden son or serial killer?

The transformation of a prodigy.

And, Lori’s least favorite of them all.

The secret shame of the Hizuri family.

It was a good thing, Lori thought, that juvenile records in the States were not up for public viewing. As it was, the rags had only rumors and speculations to go on. 

And, of course, what Julie had told them.

Director Konoe called him again. All the actors, with the exception of Murasame, had been instructed not to give any interviews until further notice. “They weren’t happy about it, though,” he added, his tone implying that neither was he. 

“They can hold off for a while longer,” Lori said. “Until at least we all have our stories straight.” Julie was out of surgery, but the doctors would keep her in the ISU until she was lucid - which could take anything from a few hours to a few days. At first Lori had wanted to go ahead with the interviews and the statements immediately, but Kato - the smug bastard - had pointed out that the Hizuri family was hardly expected to go around talking about their careers when one of them was in the hospital, on the knife-edge of death. 

Which bought the Hizuri family time, but was of no use to Kyoko.

As if reading his thoughts, Director Konoe asked after her, wondering how this new publicity would affect her projects.

“Mogami-san has been briefed.” Lori said, trying really hard not to start gritting his teeth.

“The two of them, they were close, weren’t they?” the director went on.

“Konoe-san, you know Ren,” Lori said, his voice cool. “And you have seen enough of Kyoko’s own abilities to know, the two of them are excellent actors.”

“Indeed,” came the answer. “They are both very good at hiding in plain sight. But that doesn’t mean they will be able to maintain the performance 24/7.”

Again with the performance. Lori closed his eyes and took a deep breath. People kept reminding him of this, as if it hadn’t been on his mind as soon as the news had hit. How Ren and Kyoko, talented and hearted as they were, would not be able to pretend to be simple colleagues if the world’s attention had been turned to them.

Out of patience, and more than a little bit cross with Konoe for bringing this up again, Lori ended the call and went to his terrace to smoke. 

“This habit is bad for you,” Jelly Woods said, joining him a few minutes later. Then, as if she herself was one of his actors, she took the cigar from his hands and drew deeply on it. “Well? What’s the verdict?”

“Everyone is disgruntled, and there’s too many people to take account of all at once,” Lori said. “It’ll be a miracle if the press isn’t all over Kyoko within the next 24 hours.”

“You’re very pessimistic. I give them 36.”

He wanted to believe her. After all, Setsuka Heel never went out of her way to humiliate or belittle anybody, nor did she go out and make enemies of herself. Surely, if they knew it was an act, the cast would show understanding and discretion.

But Lori was too old, and - despite his love of dressing up - too cynical. Whatever sympathy the actors and crew would feel towards Setsuka would be negated by the bad impressions they had of her “brother”, and Ren had left plenty of bad impressions. It was one thing, being rude and conceited when you were a foreigner - being rude and conceited while also being the son of Hizuri Kuu was unforgivable. They would all want to put him in his place, and would not care who else got dragged along.

“How’s Mogami-san?” he asked Jelly.

“I left her with her boys,” she replied, referring to Yashiro and Kato. The two men had argued - politely, but without either backing down - as to how Kyoko’s privacy could be protected best, until the girl had pointed out that she had no reason to hide in a hotel while the media storm blew over. Indeed, Kyoko had said, it was far easier for her to slip in and out of the restaurant in disguise than it would be in an unfamiliar hotel. “I think they were both a little taken aback with how assertive she was.”

“It’s good that she’s assertive now,” Lori said. “She’s in for a hell of a week.”

Jelly leaned against his shoulder. “You’re very protective of her. I don’t think I’ve seen you this upset over anybody else.”

“Don’t remind me.” Lori shifted uncomfortably. He’d overheard, as Kyoko was leaving, her and Kato talking about her meeting with her father, and how they would have to time it. As if the girl didn’t have enough drama in her life already… it was rare that Lori felt this bad over a decision. So many times he had left her go on doing what she wanted, assuming that, at 16-17, she was old enough to make her own mind. Now, all he could think of was how negligent he’d been, and how it was her that would suffer the consequences. “I just hope that it was all worth it.”

*

It took about 18 hours before the first mention of Setsuka appeared - a very short line in an entertainment blog, squeezed between a life history of Hizuri Kuon, and Hizuri Kuu’s latest Japan visit, which people were speculated was just a ruse to get his useless son a movie role. Then, in a couple of hours, another mention, this time from a news outlet that covered Kuon’s early movie career, that ended in the presenter wondering how the “boy” managed to get through the shoot without exposing himself, and saying that it must have been down to his “lovely, but unconventional manager”.

Then, as these things went, an “anonymous source” called and said that the girl wasn’t a manager at all, and that her and Kuon’s conduct on the set was far more intimate than anybody could expect.

All in all, Kyoko had about a day of pretending things would be okay before the papers were asking “Who is Setsuka?” and why on earth was she - presumably, a woman younger than Kuon himself - tasked with keeping him in line. 

Two days after the news broke, someone with too much time on their hands had compared footage of Setsuka from the shoot (kindly provided by the same anonymous source) to pictures of all of LME’s known talent and managed to narrow it down to ten actresses in the right age and body types. Another outlet “borrowed” the comparison and went a step further, comparing dates of known shoots to Setsuka’s appearance. Kyoko, who was out shopping for herself at the time, didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when the presenter said: “Mogami Kyoko might have been a strong contender, but she clearly isn’t tall enough.” 

“It’s good that they’re dismissing you,” Yashiro-san had told her later. “If you keep your head down they would eventually give up.”

From his seat in the corner, Kato-san snorted. When she’d first arrived in the office, she’d thought that it was just a coincidence that he was here; but Yashiro had explained (very reluctantly, and with no small amount of resentment) that the accountant had arrived bright and early with enough legal paperwork to give a migraine to a judge. 

Kato-san had been unrepentant. “An inheritance is not a simple matter, and neither is managing a career. There’s a lot of things that were left to the last minute, because of your guardians’ negligence, and your LME-appointed handler only did his bare minimum.”

“Sawara-san works really hard,” Kyoko objected. “He got me a lot of auditions when I was just starting out…”

“And then had you signing contracts without giving them more than a cursory reading,” Kato-san went on.

“He was acting under the impression that Mogami-san was here with her guardians’ blessing, as we all did,” Yashiro said. Then, cringing, he added, “Although admittedly I’m not happy about this either.” 

“What’s this?” she asked, sitting down. She recognized the documents they were pouring over - the contracts from Dark Moon, Box R, even her role as Bo. She blushed a little, wondering if Yashiro made the connection at all, but her new manager seemed fixated on something else. “Are my contracts bad?”

“Not bad, no. But they were drawn up without taking your guardians into consideration,” Yashiro said, rubbing his eyes. “It’s a boilerplate payment schedule, but the thing with actors who are under 18 is that…”

“That it’s typically their guardians who manage the money,” Kato said. “Don’t worry, though. You worked on your own in Tokyo for a long time before you got your contract at LME. If the Fuwa family tries to lay any claim on your paycheck, we can argue that they’re being greedy bastards that don’t hold your best interests at heart.”

“Yes, yes, because if they didn’t care for her Daruma-ya paycheck then they wouldn’t care what she made as Mio, you said,” Yashiro complained, picking up on some thread of their conversation that still aggravated him. “My problem is—”

They went on back and forth, arguing over the legal definition of one term or another. Meanwhile, Kyoko just sat there, feeling like the floor had caved in on her. 

It wasn’t that she was completely naive about money - she was just not used to having much of it. Stretching funds out, making choices to minimize expenses, it was part of who she was. She didn’t think about contracts or how they could be used to screw her over - nor was she used to having people who did, and who were on her side. 

In fact, she hadn’t thought about it much at all, but the way the entirety of LME had come to help her now, when a media storm was imminent, and the only person she wanted to speak to was across the ocean… it was like she had a family. Not a mother and father of the traditional sense of the word, but something bigger. Something both terrifying and reassuring.

“Would you like a ride home?” Kato-san asked at some point. He had a car, and, much to Yashiro’s annoyance, had offered to drive them both around if need be. But, knowing that all she could do in Daruma-ya was sulk and stare at the wall, Kyoko had shaken her head.

“I’d like to stay with you, if you don’t mind,” she said. “I think I need to understand these things better.”

Yashiro opened his mouth to say something, then closed it promptly. This wasn’t one of the battles he was willing to fight.

*

His mother was sleeping. His father was out, talking to the doctors. He could call her now. There was nobody who could stop him.

Call her, and say… what? I’m sorry I lied? I’m sorry I let things go this far? I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you the second we met?

Feeling uninspired, he took out his phone and went online. It had been difficult at the beginning, but now he was almost used to it - the barrage of insulting commentary, the constant trawling through ‘his’ filmography… none of them had made the connection with Tsuruga Ren, though. It was like the prince and the pauper - even if they wore the same face, nobody made the connection.

Well… one person did. The one who still believed in fairytales and held onto a keepsake from ten years ago.

Lost in his musings, he didn’t realize what site he’d landed on until he saw a familiar, beloved face… followed by that of a pudgy old man, trying to determine whether Setsu’s measurements could possibly be the same as that of emerging actress Mogami Kyoko. “She does appear rather flat-chested in her school photo,” he was saying. “But let’s not forget the things that ladies can do these days.”

Kuon nearly smashed his phone.

Of course, the tabloids would get to her at some point. There was only so much they could do with his old film projects and recapping his parents’ achievements. But never - not even in his worst moments - had he been subjected to this sort of leery curiosity from the media.

What have I done?

And, more importantly, how did she feel. After everything she’d done for him, after the trials they’d been through, he was the one hidden in a private facility and she had to field the media exposure. He couldn’t wait anymore. He dialed her number.

She did not pick up immediately, and he wondered if she’d blocked his number. He wouldn’t blame her if she did, of course, but still…

Then. Finally.

“Kyoko—” he rushed. “Thank you, thank you so much, you have no idea—”

“Is this Hizuri-san?” a male voice replied.

Kuon paused. Part of him wanted to drop the phone like it was a hot potato. Part of him wanted to reach across the line and strangle this guy - whomever he was, if he’d done something to Kyoko…

“Who’s this?” he asked in English, too angry for pleasantries. “Why are you answering this phone?”

“My apologies. We’ve never been formally introduced - my name is Kato. Mogami-san asked my assistance when you were wrongfully accused a few weeks ago.”

Kuon wanted to snarl, but he did recall - the accountant Kyoko had ran into on accident, the one who seemed to have a scarily good knowledge of both the legal and financial aspects of her life. 

“As for why I’m answering Mogami-san’s phone,” Kato went on, “she is currently preparing for an important meeting and she has asked not to be disturbed.”

Liar. There was no indication that the media had caught on, and even if they had, they still didn’t have their stories straight. 

“When will she be available then?” he asked.

“I’m sorry - there’s no way to tell at this point,” Kato said. “Shall I take a message for her?”

His hands started shaking. His voice was full of cold rage. At this maybe-accountant, maybe-lawyer with his finnicky, polite voice, and his micro-managing of everyone’s lives, and, and, and…

“No,” he said, at length. “No, you shall not.”

“Very well. Have a—”

But Kuon hung up before he was done talking. When Kuu came back into the room, for the first time in years, he found his son crying.

*

Kyoko sighed. “Thank you, Kato-san.” She’d panicked so hard when she’d seen the name flash across the screen, she’d practically thrown the phone at Kato and Yashiro, begging them to take the call. Her new manager had seemed as excited as her to talk to Ren… or Kuon… or whatever name he went by now, so it had fallen on her accountant to do it. Kato, for his part, had handled it like a champion.

“He might call again,” he said, handing the device over. “You should decide what you would like to say to him when he does.”

“Later,” she said. “I’d… rather take these conversations one at a time.”

Her father had arranged a meeting. After some discussion, she’d decided to get it over with. She didn’t look forward to this any more than she did the conversation with her… current lover? Ex-lover? She’d barely gotten used to the idea of having one and now she was contemplating the fact that they might not have been an item to begin with.

Yashiro stood up, murmuring something about needing to stretch. Kato returned to his paperwork, as if nothing about the conversation had bothered him. She took in his appearance - his rumpled suit, his now-messy hair - and wondered if he got paid overtime by his company, or if he was doing all of this because he wanted to.

“You’re not just an accountant, are you?” she asked. The question had been humming on her mind, but it had never seemed like a good time to bring it up. Now… she wondered if she would have another opening again.

For a while, it seemed like he hadn’t heard her. Then he set the contract down and took his glasses off. “What do you think?”

She thought for a while, then shrugged. “I think that you’re more invested in this that anybody would expect. I think that you know a lot more than you’re letting on.”

He smiled, but it was a sad, tired one - more a grimace than anything else. “Accountancy is underrated, Mogami-san. There’s a lot that a person can hide in numbers.”

She shook her head. She’d seen the movie, too. 

“I do admit,” he went on, “the company that I work for doesn’t specialize in bookkeeping. We are a more… multi-tasking agency than our obvious competitors.”

“You seem more hands-on, too,” she said.

“Ah.” This time, the smile reached his eyes. “Well… I suppose it never was an appropriate time to say this, but to be honest, it was your mother who brought me on board.”

Kyoko raised an eyebrow. “The company was my mother’s?”

“No. But she did work with them - as a consultant, as a subcontractor, depending on what they needed.” He put his glasses back on, and for a second, Kyoko wondered just what sort of history Kato-san had with her mother. It didn’t seem like there would be much, but… “Your mother was supposed to be resting, when we met,” Kato-san said. “She insisted on working, though, so her bosses gave me my case to take care of.” 

“Your… case?” she asked.

“I was something of a problem,” Kato said. “My family is from Hokkaido. They own a big woodworking business there, sort of a big deal around town. They sent me to Kyoto to university. I only made it to Tokyo and then stopped taking their calls.”

She felt her jaw drop. “You… you ran away?”

“Funny, right,” he said, smiling. “I wasn’t much older than you at the time, and I thought… with so many people, they wouldn’t be able to track me down. I was 18, they couldn’t call the police if they didn’t suspect foul play… I didn’t count on them calling a fixer. Or that the person who would come for me would be pregnant.”

Kyoko was still processing the fact that Kato-san - who was so youthful in his appearance - would be at least twice her own age, when the rest of it hit her. “You… we met?”

“If you call it that,” Kato-san said. He looked like an indulgent uncle then - hardly the hardened guy Yashiro and the rest had witnessed so far. “She came into the dorm under the pretext that she was my girlfriend, and the landlady just let her in. The first thing she did was ask me why I hadn’t offered her tea yet. And I scrambled to obey.” He shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared in my life.”

“Why…” Kyoko struggled for words. There were so many questions in her mind. “Why was she sent to find you?”

“Her business was in renting and selling property,” Kato-san said. “She had… I want to say ties, but it was as though she had encyclopedic knowledge of the city. Where would somebody go, where would they stay, where were they most likely to turn up. She knew how much everything cost and how people were drawn to certain places over others. I’d lived a sheltered life, and I hadn’t been very elaborate in my preparations for this disappearance. All she had to do was narrow down the likely places, and then visit them all. She had me at the second.”

Kyoko just gaped and gaped. She wondered if she should contradict him, but… it seemed like exactly the sort of thing her mother would do. The sort of person she would be. Taking on work when she was meant to rest, tracking down wayward young men.

“Did you go back to your parents? Or did you go to Kyoto?” she asked. 

“Neither,” Kato said. “Your mother and I talked for a while. She… I expected her to order me around, demand that I do my filial duty and not disgrace my family further.” He looked down at his hands. “It wasn’t as though I was doing anything shameful, you understand,” he said, almost to himself. “But it would have been to my parents, and our town… our town was very small, even then. I thought the best thing for me would have been to disappear quietly.”

It was the sort of place that, were she in a drama, she would have asked what the secret was. But, looking at Kato-san, she felt strangely embarrassed. Like making him relive that memory was cruel. Kyoko had a couple of guesses anyway - and it didn’t matter if he confirmed any of them. “What did my mother do? You said you expected her to be—”

“Bossy, yes. I was prepared to fight,” Kato-san said. “But all she said was ‘I see’. Then she asked me how I would like to learn a different trade.”

“Just like that?” She would never have imagined Saena to be… nice. Or accommodating.

“I’m abbreviating, of course,” Kato-san said. “There was a lot of back and forth. She kept testing the waters, trying to figure out what made me tick… I didn’t know it then, of course, I felt like I was being interrogated. But she never pushed me very far and she was never dismissive. It was a new thing for me - to feel like somebody was actually hearing me. 

“In the end, she made me an offer - I could go ahead with my plan, to try and disappear and hope that my parents eventually got the hint. The other option was to tell my family I had escaped for the sake of a different career path, and then apprentice with a firm she had close ties with.”

Kyoko was quiet for a long time. She wondered why he had accepted - why he couldn’t have chosen any other job, any other field. “What made you want to go with the second option?” she asked. 

“Desperation,” Kato said. “To an extent, anyway. I thought, if she found me, how long until somebody less nice did. I thought I would put up appearances for a while and then leave. But…” He paused, thinking. “She said something to me, your mother, something that made me curious enough to go along, and then, eventually, to stay. She told me that running away was a perfectly legitimate option, if I didn’t bring my problems along with me.”

She waited for him to elaborate, uncertain how to react to this particular tidbit. “Why was that relevant?” she asked at length.

“It made me think of what my problem actually was. I used to think it was just my parents, and how they would treat me if they found out I was… something other than what they wanted for themselves. I thought everything would be okay if I found one person who accepted me for who I was… who I am.”

“And wasn’t it?”

“I thought it would be, at the time.” He leaned back in the chair and smiled. “I’m older now. I’ve accepted, and been accepted by, many people. It was… and still is, very nice, very reassuring. But it doesn’t do away with the demons, not by itself.”

Her heart gave a painful lurch. Both fairies and furies poked their heads over her shoulders, listening intently. “Demons, Kato-san?” she tried joking. “You didn’t strike me as religious.”

“I’m not in the policy of worrying about afterlife before I die, if that’s what you mean,” he said, smiling. “The demons I talk about are the ones who follow you while you’re alive. They eat at your mind, at your heart. They suck the joy out of everything, and make your accomplishments seem… insignificant. I can see you know what I’m talking about.” Without realizing, Kyoko had began nodding. 

“Yes,” she said.

“It’s awful,” Kato went on. “You think, if only somebody contradicted them. If only someone told me they’re wrong. But most people, they have their own things to worry about. And when they see your demons, they’re not very kind. And because the demons are in your ear all the time, when someone does come along and tries to fight them for you, you don’t believe them. Sometimes you side with the demons and fight your rescuer.”

There was a noise from the hallway, and Kato seemed to shake himself out of whatever daydream he was lost in. “I apologize, Mogami-san. I didn’t mean to waffle like that.”

“No,” she said, her throat dry. “I… it was very helpful. You… my mother told you this?”

“Yes. At the time, it was little more than an interesting thing to make me pause. And I was very stubborn, very proud - it took a lot to startle me. I thought, somebody like that, I should try to learn from.” He coughed, as Yashiro came back in the room. “Please don’t let my morosity bother you, Mogami-san. It’s all ancient history.”

She wanted to tell him no. She wanted him to keep going. 

Why? The furies whispered. Why bother? He didn’t know her the way you did. He didn’t have to live with her. He didn’t have to deal with her moods. He didn’t get abused for not doing perfectly at school. 

He is rather biased, the fairies ventured.

Which is why Kyoko kept silent, and returned to perusing her birth certificate. She was about to get a lot of accounts of her mother today. And it was only lunch.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! Or any of the other books/works referenced here. This is a work of fiction only.
> 
> Takes place after chapter 188.
> 
> This is a repost. See the link in my bio for the original, flaws and all.

She was floating on a cloud. 

Julie smiled. She never thought they would be this comfortable - all that vapor, and it was always so cold up high - but these were the Goldilocks of clouds. Just right. If it wasn’t for all that bright light - she liked to dim them all down, what with her condition - she could have thought she was at a spa.

But a nagging thought persisted. Why so quiet?

Of course, she liked the quiet - her condition again - but something told her there ought to have been voices around her. Specifically, two voices - her favourite people in the world, who would surely be sitting with her now.

Why? Why?

Her nose twitched, like she was stifling a sneeze. Something was off. Where are my slippers? And where is the edge of this bed?

She imagined rolling off into a thick carpet, something as soft and as nice as the clouds. In reality, her body barely moved. Something was tethering it in place, right under the covers.

Mmmph…

She tried again, and then once more, and finally, in the distance, she heard, “She’s still very weak. But we’re bringing her out slowly.”

I can go wherever I want, Julie thought, defiantly. And then, out of where?

*

It took several hours - or was it minutes? As far as she was concerned time had lost meaning - but eventually the clouds dissipated and she came more fully into possession of her body. Her body, which, once Earthbound, felt a lot worse than it had been in the skies. 

She cringed against the bright light, and tried to burrow under the covers, but her limps were heavy and the IV line pulled at her. Everything was harsh - the sun, the pillow under her head, the breeze whenever someone opened or closed a door. And her own skin… she could smell herself, and it wasn’t pleasant.

Somebody pulled a curtain, and she mewled as the sound made her head hurt. But then it was dark again, and the darkness was a relief.

“Is she supposed to be this sensitive?” her husband asked. She would know his voice everywhere.

“It’s not uncommon. She’ll be in and out of it for a while - we’ll come and check on her every hour.”

A door opened, and she cringed momentarily but it was over soon. And then the sound of someone - two someones - sitting down, on either side of her.

Two…

Julie forced her eyes to open, to take in the men who were keeping her company. Carbon copies, the two of them - both handsome, only about 25 years apart in age. She sighed, happily. “My boys…”

The younger one… she kept forgetting his name, but she knew who he was - a star, her star - turned so quickly he nearly fell off his chair. “Mom?” he spoke with an accent. Why was he speaking with an accent? “Mom, can you hear us?”

“Loud and clear, my darling.” She didn’t remember calling him that, but it felt right. “Come closer…. Let me look at you.”

“Julie,” his father said, “rest up. You’ll have time to catch up later.”

“I want to see him now. I may not—”

“The doctors said everything went well,” he said. “You’re okay.”

“Why must you contradict me?” she said, feeling put upon. She wanted to look at her son.

But her son had turned away, his face set. It was so familiar, she wanted to laugh. He was still so stubborn. 

She could be stubborn, too. They expected her to nod off - but she’d nodded off plenty, and she wanted to talk to her son while he was still here. She didn’t know why - but she was anxious he would leave. And he didn’t help things by checking his phone all the time - really, weren’t they supposed to take these things away when they were at a hospital?

Julie waited and waited. Eventually, her husband - Kuu, she recalled, his name is Kuu - got up to go to the bathroom. It was just her son and her.

“How are you?” she asked as soon as the door closed. 

“Fine,” he said. And that was that.

“Have you been to… to the Chicken Shack yet? You must miss it.” She was starting to pick up her energy levels, and she was glad. “I bet you made a beeline… as soon as you were off the plane.”

“No,” he said. “No, I… came straight here.”

“Well… go now. Bring me a shake, too.” Not that she would drink it. She felt like she wouldn’t eat or drink another thing again. But it was the thought that counts.

He just shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Why not?” 

He pursed his lips, did not respond. Julie didn’t like that. “Kuon,” she said, trying to sound more stern. “Why not? You’re back now. You can do… as you please.”

Kuon’s eyes flashed with a sudden temper - nothing new, she recalled, he used to be like that all the time as a teenager - but there was something about the set of his jaw that worried her. Like he wanted to say something but was holding it back for dear life.

“Come on,” she said. “You can tell me anything.”

“Clearly not,” he said. 

But before she could wheedle him for more information, his father was back, and Kuon got to his feet. “I’m going to get a coffee,” he said, in Japanese. “Want anything?”

“No, I’ve had all I need.” Kuu looked between the two of them, and she knew he’d been eavesdropping. But why did he seem so annoyed with her? All she’d done was try and be nice.

And then Kuon was out the door, and she couldn’t help the nagging sense that she’d forgotten something important.

*

Ren was pacing. Kuon would have been too cool to be seen doing that, but Japan’s top actor would have given himself some leeway, and he definitely felt more like Ren than Kuon today. Now that his mother was awake… somehow the fear held him in a teenager’s mindspace - sullen and angry. Now that it was gone, he was… maybe calm was an overstatement, but definitely more like his adult self. 

Still… the corridors seemed too small, too claustrophobic. There was plenty of space on the grounds, but he was afraid of running into the paparazzi before he was ready. He was better at handling the press than he used to be, but he had the nagging feeling he might deck somebody.

What he wanted - what he really, really wanted - was to hear Kyoko’s voice. If only for a bit… he knew it would soothe him. 

But - and it was a big but - he didn’t want to be met with the busy tone again, or worse - with Kato. Any more confrontations with the man and Ren didn’t know what he would do.

(Okay, he did know. He would cry like a child, freaking his father out even more than he already was.) 

He never thought his lack of romantic experience would be such a problem. Obviously, within his work, it had been a setback - one he thought he’d worked around - but after a lifetime of viewing women as annoyances, or a means for physical release, having one in his life that he cared about, whose presence was not only soothing, but essential… her rejection hurt more than he thought it should.

And the thing was, even if she wasn’t mad at him - and she had every right to be - he knew she’d have other things to worry about. Her own life to sort.

So why was he so upset she couldn’t jump straight in to support him?

He rooted through his pockets, trying to find something to soothe himself - maybe a cigarette, leftover from Cain? - but instead he found his work phone.

The answer presented itself immediately.

His manager picked up on the third ring. “Yashiro speaking.”

“Yashiro-san,” Ren said, smiling. “It’s Tsuruga. How are you?”

Long pause. Then, as if addressing somebody else, “Please excuse me, I need to take this.” A woman murmured something indistinguishable, and then Yashiro moved out of the room. “Ren-san,” he said, sounding stiff and formal. “How can I help you?”

“Look, I know you can’t know that immediately, but can you do me a favour and check wit Sawara-san when Kyoko is free next? I want to talk to her but I can never get a hold—”

“Mogami-san is not on any set right now, she’s having a personal meeting,” he answered. 

There was a long pause as Ren struggled to get his voice to work. 

“You… know that?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“May I ask why?”

There was a long sigh. Then Yashiro said, “Given Mogami-san’s increasing popularity the director saw fit to assign her a manager. And since there is now a gap in my schedule…” 

The way he said it, it sounded like things had just happened. Ren wondered how many months in advance Lori had had this brewing, ready to spring a contract on Kyoko and Yashiro as soon as he was out of the picture. They’re already moving on, his old self whispered in his ear. They knew you would never come back and they acted accordingly. 

He forced himself to behave as an adult. He had told Yashiro himself that he didn’t know how long his stay in the States would be and when he would be able to return. He had also left Kyoko as she was receiving her first movie role, and then this whole bomb with Kuon being Cain Heel had dropped. She hadn’t been found out as Setsuka just yet, but when she was (and he had to assume it was a when, not an if) she would need all the people in her corner that she could get.

It made him feel silly. He should have thought ahead of time. He should have been the one to ensure she had those people in her corner.

“It’s good that you are looking after her, Yashiro-san,” Ren said. “She is in very good hands.”

“I would say that Mogami-san looks after herself well enough.” 

There was a long, awkward silence.

“I will come back, Yashiro-san,” Ren said, at last. “I will.”

“I know. For what it’s worth…” his manager paused, picking his words carefully. “I look forward to the next incarnation of Tsuruga Ren.”

It wasn’t until he hung up that Ren realized - Yashiro never told him who Kyoko was having a meeting with.

*

Her father’s name was Soga Ichiro, and he was a salary man at a real estate company. Kato-san had offered to do a full background check on him, but Kyoko had refused. Partly because she didn’t want to intrude on the man’s life any more than she had to, partly because she didn’t want a lot of information to feed her overactive imagination. She had already gone through half a dozen scenarios in which he and her mother might have met, how their affair developed (and ended), and what his favourite foods might be. 

The reality of the man - as realities tended to be - was underwhelming. She drank every detail, as he stood to greet her - his wide-set face, his neat haircut, his jutting jaw - and she could see no family resemblance, not even a hint of it. She wondered if her mother had gotten something wrong.

Then he bowed: “I’m Soga. Nice to finally meet you, Mogami-san.”

She mirrored his greeting and they spent an awkward couple of minutes trying to get comfortable in Kato-san’s boardroom. She got up to fetch tea and then remembered that they had some brought up already; he asked if she was comfortable, and then remembered he was the guest as much as she was. All the while, they kept seizing each other up - for all the looking Kyoko did, looking for clues, he did too. 

Eventually, staring was all they did.

“You look a lot like her,” Ichiro said at length.

Kyoko wasn’t sure how to respond. “I changed my hair a lot… before I started this job.”

“Oh.” He paused, trying to imagine the change. “Yes, I suppose there are some requirements you have to meet, to do what you do.”

So he had asked around for her. Not that it took a lot - a quick trip down a search engine and he would have seen everything there was to know about her - from her short bibliography to her LME bio to the headlines she’d been making recently as one of the possible actresses to play Setsu. 

He was wrong about the hair change, though. “It was my choice, actually,” she said. “I wanted to… turn a fresh leaf.”

“Hm.” Ichiro sipped his tea, giving no indication whether he believed her or not. 

Kyoko wracked her head for ideas. How do people made conversation with their long-lost dads? Outside of dramas? 

“You’re seventeen?” he asked.

“Eighteen in December.”

“My eldest will be seventeen soon,” he said, setting his cup down. “I don’t suppose that says a lot of good things about me as a parent.”

Maid face, maid face, maid face, she thought. Out loud, “I don’t really see that.”

“No? You don’t think that having two daughters with two different women makes me something of a louse?” He gave her a dark look. Ah, there’s that family resemblance. She always thought she got her mother’s death glare. Apparently not. 

FACE! “Well, you didn’t know about me, did you?” she said, forcing herself to act casual. “I didn’t even know about you until a few weeks ago.”

“Hm.” 

Still no answer. She tried a different route. “How many daughters do you have?”

“Just two. Hana and Fumiko,” He dug around his wallet and retrieved a photo. It was from a high school entrance ceremony. He and a woman stood next to two girls, both in uniform, both looking a little bit shell-shocked. Kyoko felt her stomach do a flip-flop. The elder girl was big-boned and cheerful looking, no doubt glad to be a senior. The younger, petite and stringy-haired, glared at the camera with what could only be described as a Mio-like intensity. 

“They’re beautiful,” she said, returning the photo. 

“Fumiko keeps being told she looks like that character in Dark Moon.” His face, which had been beaming with pride a second ago, seemed to fall. “I suppose we know now why.”

She couldn’t stand this anymore. Steeling herself, she asked her father if she could be blunt. He nodded. “Soga-san, I can’t imagine what it feels like to you right now,” she said. “I wasn’t even thinking I would be making contact with you. My mother… in her will, she advised me not to.”

“So why did you?” he asked, and his stare was neither welcoming nor curious. It was the sort of stare you gave to someone you wanted to get rid of, and fast. Kyoko repeated “maid face” a few times before responding.

“There are some things my mother did not plan for,” she said. “My guardians proved to be less trustworthy than she thought they would be, and my work—”

“Let me stop you right there,” he held up his hand, “when I first got the call about this meeting, I was skeptical. I thought, this must certainly be a joke, or else a terrible scheme. This man, this Kato… he certainly did not inspire any confidence. Then I saw the papers, saw you. Some things you can fake, but not this… not to this degree. I told Kato, I wasn’t sure about this. He said it was just a formality, that I would just have to sign off on a passport. He said nothing about sob stories.”

“It’s not—”

“I didn’t believe him—” he went on, talking right over her “—I knew there would be some sort of catch. I didn’t want to put my name on any papers until I spoke to you.”

“Kato-san said you wanted to meet,” Kyoko managed, trying hard to keep her voice from shaking. 

“I did. I wanted to see you for myself. I didn’t expect… I never thought… talking to you would be so difficult.”

And then, immediately contradicting himself, he went on to tell her all about the way he and her mother had met - how he was young, how he was dazzled by Saena’s charms and intelligence, how he thought it was the way love was meant to be. How Saena had become more withdrawn all of a sudden, how she had started to snub him. How he’d met his now-wife and realized she was who he wanted to share his life with. How Saena had just laughed in his face when he’d told her, and bid him good luck before returning to her spreadsheets and bottom line. 

“Good riddance.” He said this a lot. “Good riddance.”

Kyoko tried to chime in a few times, but every time, he just powered through, ignoring her. And, little by little, it occurred to her - Soga Ichiro didn’t want to meet her, not really. He didn’t particularly care about the sort of person she was or her life. All he wanted was to vent, and he did - eighteen years worth of vitriol, caused by her mother, but maybe a little by him, finally had a target. 

She wanted to be angry. The grudges poked their heads out, sniffed the air… then went back to sleep. The fairies whispered nice things for a while, and eventually fell silent too. It felt like a scene - a scene of her own life. Except she wasn’t really a participant. 

Just a sounding board.

Once the thought sank in, she found it hard to re-engage with the situation. She just let the words flow past her ears while her face settled into a neutral expression. 

Her father and mother hadn’t had some sort of epic love story. They had barely had a fling. And then, just as life had pushed them together, it had pulled them apart - no malice or drama, just circumstance. Her mother had been too proud to tell him she was pregnant. He - presumably - hadn’t cared enough to check on her, or wonder. He’d gone on and had a family with someone who suited him better.

It was all… very prosaic. Except for the part where he was getting a little red in the face accusing her of trying to manipulate him and throwing sob stories in an attempt to win him over. And she hadn’t even asked anything of him yet.

“And now I see all these things on the news - about you being one who dresses up in… in those shameless clothes, and being in service to some spoiled American! If you think I will ever tell my family… if I will ever allow my daughters to associate… you have another thing coming!”

That got her attention.

“What are you—”

“Don’t you dare deny it! I saw it on the news on the way here. The footage from the hotel alone… you should be ashamed of yourself.”

Kyoko’s heart started beating triple-fast. Almost as if he’d been listening in on the door, Kato-san came into the room, carrying a fresh tray of tea, and a folder. 

“Just thought I would top you up,” he said, cool as a cucumber. Soga-san mustered up some strength and marshaled his features, but he kept glaring daggers at Kyoko. “I don’t want to press you two, I just wanted to bring the emanciaption documents as well as the passport form before I nip off to lunch.”

“Emancipation?” Soga-san said.

Kato opened the folder and showed it to Kyoko. There was a sticky note on top of the documents: There’s been a leak. Let’s get this done with now. 

She nodded, and Kato-san bowed. “Indeed,” he said, tearing off the note and presenting the folder to her father. “Mogami-san must have explained this to you already, but she is at a point in her career where she has to make quick decisions about her engagements, money, and travel. Given how quickly her birthday is approaching, and the absence of reliable guardians, emancipation is only natural.”

Soga just kept staring. “Freedom, huh?” he said, eventually. “It looked to me like she was enjoying that anyway.”

Kato-san kept his face even as he said, “In addition to the aforementioned documents, you will find an NDA there. It’s binding both parties to silence… meaning that neither you nor Mogami-san plans to acknowledge your connection in the next five years. It was my impression from our earlier conversation that this was your… preference.”

Kyoko watched the wheels turn, and tried to still the itch in her hands. She wanted to grab her phone and see what he was talking about, but she had to stay cool. She had to appear unaffected.

Because what Kato-san was offering her father was a very good deal. Her legal freedom, in exchange for her silence. No need for him to tell any of his family about a daughter he’d sired before any of them were in the picture. No need to acknowledge an association with an actress. It was all very neat and tidy.

While he - Soga - had spent five minutes losing it, screaming at her face. Yes, he was visibly embarrassed.

Good, she thought. Let him be. 

Eventually, he picked up a pen and signed without another word. Then it was her turn. Her hands shook only slightly.

“Wonderful,” said Kato-san. “I’ll leave you to finish your conversation, then.”

Just get rid of him, Kyoko thought. But she couldn’t force herself to say it. She felt so tired all of a sudden.

“The American,” Soga said, eventually, “this Kuon character… he doesn’t have a very good reputation. I wouldn’t let a daughter of mine associate with… that. Well…” he went on, when she did not respond “…I suppose I won’t have to now.”

“What would you like me to say?” Kyoko asked. “I feel like there is nothing that I could tell you that would make you happy.”

He was startled. Not expecting her to answer, perhaps - you rarely did, with sounding boards. “I just wish…” he said, shaking his head. “I just wish you weren’t so much like your mother.”

*

“Well, that went well,” Kato said, later. They were still in the board room, with Kyoko working her way through four boxes of tissues and a large pot of tea. “The meeting with your father, I guess.”

That made her snort. “I should say so. At least you got what you wanted.”

“We got what you needed,” Kato corrected. “Never undermine yourself, Mogami-san.”

“The press already seems to be doing that for me,” she said. The report must have hit while she had been in her quiet bubble, trying to prepare for the meeting with her father. A source from Kyoto who reportedly overheard a conversation she’d had with Kuon as “Setsu”. She had a few options to choose from - mostly people from the Fuwa Ryoken she had interacted with - but she knew only one or two vindictive enough to take it to the press. Almost simultaneously, the hotel she and Ren had been staying at had had his servers hacked and the security tapes of their last night there had been released. It turned out, no matter how discreet they had tried to be in the corridor, some of their fervor must have shown because the blogs were calling her “the Siren” already. 

And her most glamorous looks were getting paraded, too. Natsu, Mio from the Dark Moon party, Setsu, Setsu, Setsu… there was no end to the ways in which fashion reporters could dissect her looks, or leery men comment upon. “Check those legs, no wonder he went for that.” 

“Why do you think they did that?” Kyoko asked. 

Kato-san shrugged. “To strong-arm you? To put you in your place? I’ve long stopped trying to figure out the motives of malicious people.”

“You’re not even a little bit worried?” She asked, not really expecting an answer. For all the stress of having Soga-san’s disgust thrown at her face, she was oddly calm. She’d been preparing for a bomb to drop for days and now that it had, there was no more shock - just exhaustion. And a little bit of relief.

“Not anymore,” Kato-san said. “You are, as of today, free to do as you please; and even before that, your guardians were letting you down so thoroughly it was only reasonable for you to go and find your own way. As soon as we get the hotel due trouble for their negligence, Yashiro-san and I will make sure every media outlet in Japan is put in its place.”

“And you can do that?” she asked.

“A young actress, being hounded by sexist reporting? I can have a field day with this,” Kato-san said, smiling. 

She wished she was this confident. As if sensing her hesitation, Kato-san added, “Mogami-san… whatever happens, you need to remember - all you ever did was fall in love. That’s not a crime. Neither is acting on those feelings.”

“I just wish…” she paused “I just wish I didn’t go into this so blind. I wish… I knew more, so that when it happened…”

“You would have known how to react,” he finished. “Yes. I know.”

Long pause. “Would it be rude of me to point out, there is a person you can talk to, right now, who can explain?”

She stared at him. She wanted to protest, but she was too tired. And anyway, what was the point? He was right. “It’s not a good time. I checked. In the States…”

“Mogami-san, I’m not telling you what to do,” Kato said, pushing the phone toward her. “But I do have the feeling that this young man will always be glad to hear from you.”

*

She sat, alone, for what felt like forever. She wanted to rehearse her speech, find the exact right words. She knew he would listen, and there would not be any NG-sighs at any point. He would respect her feelings. Whatever they were.

But the more she thought the less sure she was. The grudges and fairies weren’t helpful either - in fact, they seemed to have grown so dim, so distant, they could have been wisps of smoke for all that she knew. 

Maybe they were. 

All that was left, at the end of the day, was her - Kyoko - struggling to contain the storm of feelings in her chest. Eventually, she just gave up, and dialed.

He picked up on the first ring. “Kyoko? Please tell me it’s you. Kyoko?”

“It’s me,” she whispered. The need in his voice… it made her weak.

There was a pregnant pause. Eventually, he said, “I saw… I’m so sorry. I’ve been trying to reach you but—”

“My phone was off, I know,” she said, looking for the next words. No inspiration came - just a lot of feelings that seemed too big for her. There she was, talking to a man she didn’t completely know, who might continue to lie to her… but who always came to her help, who held her when she cried, and who, regardless of how painful it was, let her hold him when he was hurting too. 

There was so much that she had to say. And none of it could be put into words. 

“Ren…” she whispered, “I need you.”

She wanted to say more, but her throat seemed to close up, and she fought tears. That simple admission was undoing her, so much so she almost missed his next words.

“I’ll be on the first flight out,” he said. “Do you hear me? Kyoko, I’m coming for you.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! Or any of the other books/works referenced here. This is a work of fiction only.
> 
> Takes place after chapter 188.
> 
> This is a repost. See the link in my bio for the original, flaws and all.

Kyoko sat in her room in Daruma-ya, counting the minutes.

It was dark outside. It wouldn’t be dark for long. 

She held the phone in her hands, replaying the conversations from the last few days, over and over and over again. Kato and Yashiro thought she was courting danger, returning to her home so soon. The President even raised an eyebrow when she relayed her conversation with Kuon. 

“It’s a high stakes game,” he said. “I would much rather the two of you laid low.”

Kyoko had just given him a look. Lori sighed.

“But I cannot stop you. When does he land again?”

“Tomorrow. Around 4 in the morning.”

“And he’ll manage to get this whole plan in motion before the paps are up?”

“Yes.”

Lori sighed again. “Kami help us all. You’ve pulled some magic together before, Kyoko, but…”

“Please, President.” She swallowed. “I know what’s at stake. But—”

But the truth of the matter was, it would be bad regardless of whether they tried Kuon’s plan or not. Tsuruga Ren was a persona that could probably withstand close scrutiny, if all else failed. He could save his career and reputation, if it came to that. Mogami Kyoko had no such fall back plan.

The screen lit up. Text message incoming.

We’re at the changeover. How are you holding up?

Kyoko walked to the window and took a peek through the blinds. She’d warned Okami-san and Taicho-san, but even with that, seeing the news van parked across the street made her stomach drop.

Scared. You?

The answer was instantaneous.

Terrified.

A second later, he added:

I’ll be with you first thing.

Kyoko took a deep breath. What could she write next? Something cool? Something nonchalant? 

As if. They were too far gone for that. I need you.

If I could grow wings right now would be there. Wait for me.

*

The accountant was messing around with his paperwork again. Yashiro studied him from the corner of his eye - how could he be so calm? At a time like this?

“Don’t you want to watch the news broadcast?” he asked Kato.

“They haven’t started yet.”

And you can just sit there, unperturbed? Yashiro wanted to throttle him. “You know, you could have watched this from your office.”

“I could have, but my stuff is still here.” He finally looked up, making Yashiro wish he hadn’t spoken at all. Kato had a way of turning his attention on people that made them feel completely useless and insignificant. Yashiro was fine with it… so long as it was turned on other people.

And that was Kato when he was exhausted.

“If you told me I would be watching a live feed from outside Kyoko’s home, as paparazzi were waiting to grill her about her relationship with Ren…” Yashiro said.

“You’d tell them that you would have never let that happen,” the other man replied. “What’s that saying about men’s plans?”

The program was running filler content. They didn’t know when Kyoko would show up or when they could start getting their content from her. But if the yellow press knew something well, it was smelling out a juicy story. There was a frenzy building up. And they had stoked it deliberately, by sending their actress home, without any handlers. It was like bloodying the waters for a bunch of sharks. 

“Do you trust Kuon?”

“Sorry, what?”

The couch dipped, and Yashiro turned to look at Kato. 

“Do you trust Kuon?” Kato asked again.

Did he? Was it such a weird thing to ask?

“I trusted Tsuruga Ren. Hizuri Kuon… I’m not so sure.”

“Neither do I,” Kato said.

“Really?” 

“No. The reports paint him as impulsive, cocky, and only cares about his own ego. I wouldn’t trust him to drive me to the airport let alone save my reputation.”

Yashiro frowned. The part of him that was Ren’s friend, Ren’s manager, immediately got defensive. But herein lay the rub - he had been Ren’s manager. He had never - not even on his worst days - had to deal with Kuon. 

“Why go along with the plan then? Kyoko respects you - she would have listened to your council.”

“I didn’t throw my weight behind it for the same reason you didn’t,” Kato said. “I trust Kyoko. And I respect her right to make decisions for her own life.”

The feed changed from B-roll to a live stream. A nice car had pulled up in front of Daruma-ya. A flashy, American-looking car. The sort that a cocky Hollywood playboy might hire on a short trip to another country. And stepping out of it…

“Showtime,” Kato muttered. 

Yashiro had to take his glasses off, wipe them, put them on again. Starting from the screen, larger than life, was Hizuri Kuu.

“Is he… sparking?” he muttered.

“I’m pretty sure it’s the sunlight.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not.” Kyoko had a name for this, Yashiro knew. The fairy prince sparkle or whatever. It had the power to reduce any woman to a puddle of mush, and now it was turned on the television reporters. “I pity the audience,” Yashiro said.

Onscreen, Kuon was just standing in front of his car, smiling as the reporters fired question after question at him. You could never tell he’d been on a trans-Pacific flight, let alone one who had arrived at four o’clock in the morning. He looked as fresh as a shampoo commercial, his clothes were just right. Even his hair - which was so blonde it was nearly white - seemed to have a life of its own. 

But the biggest difference was how he stood. Yashiro was aware of Tsuruga Ren’s usual look: subdued, respectful, unmistakably Japanese. The guy staring back from the screen had this massive grin on his face and a loose stance, looking for all the world as if he had not a single care. Tsuruga Ren had held himself like he expected to be punched. Hizuri Kuon looks like he might just take the punch, laugh, and then knock whomever attacked him back on his ass.

“Well,” Kato said, “I can see why nobody ever made the connection.”

The rolling text under the feed made absolutely no sense, and of course, it would not. The press had been readying itself to savage an actress who had forgotten her place. Instead, they got her beau.

Kuon held up his hands. “One at a time, folks, one at a time,” he said, his English impeccable. No accent in sight, not even a hint of his years of living in Japan. He was like a gaijin who had touched down in Narita for the first time. 

He looked around and then pointed at one reporter who blurted out: “Hizuri-san, what news of Ms Julie?”

Kuon considered the question and replied in Japanese. “My mother’s doing great. Alive, kicking, and wondering why I haven’t introduced her to my girlfriend yet.”

That, of course, unleashed the floodgates. 

“Hizuri-san, Hizuri-san…”

“What’s your relationship with Mogami Kyoko?”

“Is it true that she was your manager while you were shooting Black Jack?”

“How will you respond to the rumours that you were taking drugs on set?”

Kuon raised his hands again, demanding silence. As if he had flipped a switch, the crowd went silent. And here I thought that the press respected nobody, Yashiro thought. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve been taking a break from the public eye.” He lied without even blinking. Pushing his sunglasses on the top of his head, he looked at every camera and reported dead in the eye before adding, “I was hoping that my return to cinema would be a bit more low-key than this, so this is a bit overwhelming.”

“Hizuri-kun, do you have no comment on…”

“Please. I have a lot of comments, and I will make them if you give me a chance.” He grinned even wider, showing an awful lot of teeth. Definitely not the Tsuruga Ren approach. “As you know, my mother has been in the hospital for a while now, and she’s just had the last of her treatments. I’ve been very lucky to have the support of my talent agency, and my managers in this difficult time, but most of all, I have been blessed with the support of my lovely girlfriend.”

As if on cue, the door to Daruma-ya opened. The reporters whirled around immediately, but the cameras were still trained on Kuon’s face and captured his expression perfectly.

“Either he’s a really good actor,” Kato said. “Or he really does love her.”

Yashiro shook his head. Ren had never looked so happy. Or so pleased. Was this because he was Kuon? Or because of Kyoko?

She stood at the porch, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Nothing even remotely scandalous, or even that special. Yet, Kuon was staring at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the entire world. When he held out his hand and she walked up to hug him, Yashiro could almost hear a thousand hearts across the country melting. Or breaking, he wasn’t sure.

The paps were yammering on again, throwing questions at them. Kuon held out his hand again.

“Everyone, I’m sure that you have a lot to say. But we’ve got a busy day today and if we don’t hurry, we’ll mess our train. Right my dear?”

“Of course.” Kyoko’s smile was perfectly relaxed. You’d have no idea she was as clueless as the rest of them - not then, not as they got back in the car and drove away, to questions being fired at them from all sides.

Yashiro breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m guessing that’s the worst of it done,” Kato said.

“They’re not out of the woods yet,” Yashiro replied. “But… they could have done a lot worse than that.”

The other man considered it for a bit. “Shall we keep watching, then?”

Yashiro stood up. “I’d better get some popcorn going. Knowing Ren, we’ll need it.”

*

The Shinkansen could move at a speed of up to 200 mph, and yet inside, time seemed to go in extra slow motion. Kyoko wasn’t completely sure she wasn’t dreaming yet - sitting between the window and Kuon, she had the distinct sense that she had stepped into an alternative dimension. If it wasn’t for the odd person walking buy, giving them a startled look, or the reporters sitting in the other end of the car, she could have easily imagined she was in the land of the fairies.

On their journey there, and since boarding the train, Kuon had barely let go of her hand. The most scandalous thing they had done so far is embrace in front of the cameras, and yet sitting there right now, it felt incredibly intimate. 

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” she whispered about 30 minutes into their trip.

He slipped a pair of tickets from his jacket. “Kyoto. I also got us accommodation, but if you don’t feel like staying over, we can make it a day trip.”

She shook her head, and then leaned against his shoulder, exhaustion rendering her momentarily weak. All this time, she was still waiting for the sky to cave in. Kuon raised their joined hands and kissed the back of hers.

“Are you going to tell me where exactly in Kyoto we’re going to?” she whispered, fearful of a microphone being trained on them. 

“That one’s a surprise,” he said. After a pause, he added, “We might have to stop by a supermarket first, though.”

Kyoko nodded. Then, deciding that she had nothing better to do for the next two hours, she settled in for a nap. Kuon waited a beat, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders. 

They might catch a photograph of them in the stops. He didn’t care one bit. 

This was already better publicity than any of the directors they worked with could hope for.

*

Lori watched the news only in the morning. Time stopped for no-one, and he had meetings to go to, and underlings to see. Still - glancing through his social media accounts, he couldn’t help a small, contended grin spreading through his face. 

Kuu called around lunchtime.

“Julie’s well,” he said, before Lori could speak a word. Then, “What’s happening? I saw the statement and then it’s been nothing but ‘Lovebirds still on train’ from the press.”

“They only just reached their destination,” the President said, as he paced his office. His parrot - he was in another pirate outfit today - squawked and went to hunt for spiders on the ceiling. “Give them ten minutes to get their bearings, five minutes to find a cab, and half an hour for traffic before any further updates roll in.”

“Don’t forget to add a ten minute buffer, you lying weasel,” Kuu said, barely lightening the mood. Kuon and Kyoko were doing a good job at being boring right now, but what about the rest of the outing? Both he and the President knew, one whiff of things being staged and this whole scheme could fall apart. “Boss… how did they seem to you?”

“Kyoko looks like someone who’s been hounded for the past week,” Lori said. “Kuon looks… happy.”

Kuu sighed. “Damn it. I hope he’s not getting his hopes too high.”

“If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be here. And honestly, I think Kyoko deserves nothing better.” Even if they got found out… at least Kyoko would not be turned into a scapegoat. Lori sighed again - he liked to think he had done a good job with supporting his talents, but times like this brought his shortcomings in stark relief. He’d thrown Kyoko in all sorts of situations that pushed her boundaries - situations that would have pushed the boundaries of anybody - thinking that her resilience and smarts would keep her out of trouble. But he’d done nothing to prepare her for a full-on onslaught from the press. If anything, he’d practically gift-wrapped the story for the reporters.

What did I think was going to happen?

Nothing. He hadn’t been thinking at all.

“Boss? Are you still there?” Kuu asked.

“I was just wondering if I could give Kyoko a curfew, once all of this is over,” Lori said.

The other man chuckled. “You can give her one, but I’d love to see you try to enforce it. I know my son - if you put her in a tower, he’ll find a way to climb it just to spite you.”

“Serves me right,” Lori sighed. 

Just then another update rolled in. A reporter, complaining about the freedom of the press being undermined. “Ah… I believe they reached the cemetery a bit quicker than expected.”

*

The gravestone had seen better days - moss had crept up around the base and the sides, and the front was dirty from its exposure to the elements. Had it not been for the caretaker who had led them here, she would never have imagined this was her mother’s final resting place. 

It was on a hill, overlooking the city. She couldn’t stop thinking her mother would hate the sunlight.

Then again, there’s no more headaches, are there? Kyoko thought, as Kuon started to unpack the cleaning supplies they’d bought on the way over. Out loud, she asked, “How did you know she was here?”

“Lucky guess,” he said. They each picked a side and got to work, scrubbing the stone, pulling out ivy that had grown too deep. “I didn’t know what your mother would have liked, but I figured your guardians would have had to show you proof that she was dead at some point.”

She wasn’t so sure about that. For all she knew, the Fuwas would have had her sign away her inheritance if Sho hadn’t dragged her to Tokyo. 

Or maybe, just maybe, Kuon was right.

And maybe, she thought as she washed the dirt and grime away, revealing her mother’s name and birthday, the Fuwas had thought that she might like a place to visit some day.

Kuon worked in silence next to her - his jeans and shirt getting progressively more stained as the day wore on. He didn’t seem to mind at all, though. If anything, the sweat and mud seemed to turn him human. How is it possible, Kyoko wondered, how can it be that you’re here? How?

“You think they’ll come for us here?” she asked. They weren’t too far from the gate - someone would still take a picture with a long range lens. 

“They’re welcome to take any picture they like,” he replied, wiping his brow and leaving a streak of dirt across his face. Deliberately making himself look worse. “If they sell more papers touting unattractive shots of me, perhaps they’ll leave you to work in peace.”

She wanted to kiss him. Instead, she handed him a wipe.

When they were finished, she washed the gravestone one more time, while Kuon lit two sticks of incense. The day seemed to go completely still - a moment of quiet that stretched and stretched, seemingly to infinity. 

“Do you want me to give you some privacy?” he asked, finally.

She shook her head, and instead took his hand in hers once again. She tried conjuring an image of her mother at peace - serene, free from the pain, patient - and she just couldn’t. Her memories from childhood kept turning to pulled blinds and demands for quiet. There must have been nice moments - they had to exist - but they would not resurface. All she had was the knowledge of those last years, and the shared memories of two men with vastly different experiences of the same person. 

Her father had loved her once, then left, hating her.

Kato-san had hated her once, and then slowly grown to respect her.

And she… she…

I don’t know what you’d think of this, Kyoko thought, and I don’t know what our relationship would have been, if things were different. But I know you loved me as best as you could… and I hope you’re proud of me, even if I’m not what you wished I was. 

“Do you want to leave?” Kyoko asked. Kuon shook his head.

“A moment longer. I have a few things to say to her as well.”

*

Afternoon coverage. Jelly Woods glanced at her phone, then went back to transforming Kanae for her performance. “Looks like the only spicy bit of news the press is getting is that Hizuri Kuon sweats. I’d be annoyed if I were their viewer. I could have told them that.”

Kanae smirked. “I take it the ‘kill them with boredom’ plan is working then?”

“You have no idea. They’re ready to pack up and leave.”

“Let’s hope they don’t interrupt their dinner.”

“Are you kidding me? Kuon would probably thank them for it.”

“True,” Kanae said, “But Kyoko will not.”

*

“You said you got us accommodation,” Kyoko said, as they slowly made their way across the cemetery. “Am I correct in guessing it’s at a certain ryoken?”

“It seemed like the logical choice,” Kuon said. “As far as you know, the Fuwas never tipped anybody off. But… I’m happy to take the evening train to Tokyo if you’d rather not face them.”

Kyoko pondered this. Then, seeing their welcoming committee lingering in the gates, she said, “Let’s stay. But I want to go for a little walk first. I know a few restaurants that deserve good exposure.”

“This is going to hurt my stomach, isn’t it?”

“Trust me,” she said, “you won’t be leaving an empty plate here.”

*

They wandered through the city, weaving through side streets and taking various shortcuts. The press followed them for a while, then, probably tipped off by whomever had their itinerary, all but the most persistent ones left. Kyoko used the opportunity to take Ren to her favourite place in town - the place she wished Sho would take her, the place that she could now afford to enjoy as much as she liked.

“This used to be a major treat for me,” she said, as they took their seats. She knew there was a long-range mike this time, and she didn’t care.

“Egg burgers then?” 

“Better. The best okonomiyaki this side of the island.”

Kuon sparkled at her. She distracted herself by chatting to the waitress, and then, later, to the chef. They spent some time going over neutral topics for the benefit of any onlookers, before they saw the last of the reporters give up and go find dinner of their own.

“So,” Kyoko said, picking up her chopsticks. “Are you going to tell me what the end strategy is here?”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning… what scene are we meant to be giving them.”

“No scene,” Kuon said. “Not unless you want me to show off my bad boy moves and steal a motorbike for us to ride off on.”

She cringed. “Please don’t. I’m worried enough about coming off as fake as it is.”

Without missing a beat, he picked her hand up and kissed it - as he had, so many times over this day. “You’re beautiful and strong, just the way you are,” he said. “There’s nothing fake about today. I’ve wanted to take you out on a date since the moment you stood up to me that first time in LME.”

Kyoko blushed. Somewhere in the distance, she imagined the cameras clicking. “Don’t be silly.”

“I’m dead serious,” Kuon said. “And you can tell I’m dead serious because you can read my expressions better than my own parents.”

She shook her head. “It’s not that hard. And you hated me before.”

“I hated the person that guy made you into,” he said. “I hated that you’d had to become cynical in order to survive. I never hated you, and I never wanted you to suffer the way I had in this business.”

“Well, I should come clean - I hated you… the other you… a fair bit. Before we got to know each other.”

“I bet. I was doing my best to make you hate me.”

Kyoko leaned her head against their interlocked hands. “I just wish we had more time. To explore this without the pressure.”

“We have all the time in the world,” Kuon said. “You know storytelling, Kyoko. Our public—” he flicked his eyes in the direction of the street “—loves a redemption narrative. It just so happens that we’re not acting.”

“Save the thought. You’re yet to meet my guardians.”

“Speaking of which… Yashiro-san told me you were trying to get permission for a passport. Is there anything I can do to help.”

For a moment, Kyoko thought about telling him what had happened with her father. His cruel words, his cutting remarks. How he’d been struck dumb by Kato-san’s declaration that the only reason she’d summoned him was to get her freedom… and ensure neither of them spoke about this ever again. Looking back, she could kind of see why the man had been so taken aback. She must have seemed so cold. So calculating.

All she had wanted was to get through the meeting with her dignity intact. The discovery of Kuon’s true identity, the press tip-offs… it had been a one-two punch of nastiness. She really hadn’t wanted to break down in front of a complete stranger.

Was I too hasty?

Looking at Kuon, she wondered whether he would have made the meeting any more bearable.

Maybe. But I can’t wait for him all the time.

Smiling, Kyoko squeezed his hand. “It’s fine. I sorted things out.” Glancing toward the street, she added, “Let’s go. I’m ready to turn in for the night.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Skip Beat! Or any of the other books/works referenced here. This is a work of fiction only.
> 
> Takes place after chapter 188.
> 
> This is a repost. See the link in my bio for the original, flaws and all.

In the back of his mind, Kuon knew he had to call his parents.

It wasn’t on top of his priorities list, though. Far from it. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, as the car took them to the Fuwa ryoken. “We can still take the train back to Tokyo.”

Kyoko shook her head. She’d grown more quiet and subdued in the restaurant - steeling herself for a confrontation, the way you did when people had disappointed you enough times. And her nervousness was rubbing off on him, too - he kept second guessing his plans, kept wondering if he had done the right thing.

Be realistic. The Fuwas care about appearances. Throwing a fit is bad optics. They wouldn’t risk it.

Kyoko’s audience loved a redemption narrative. So did his. Part of the appeal of Mio, Natsu, and even Setsu was the possibility of being made human again, of being accepted into the fold. Rejection didn’t mesh with that story. 

But he didn’t know if the Fuwas saw it that way. He was counting on their mendacity, but what if he had misjudged.

And then the car went through the gates of the ryoken, and there was no time to change plans anymore. He followed Kyoko out, to find the whole staff had gathered to greet them.

Well… he had reserved the best rooms in the place for them. 

That must have counted for something.

A woman with a beautiful, but pinched face stepped out from the crowd. Setsuie, judging from how Kyoko’s back tensed a little. Kuon readied himself for a scene…

“Kyoko-chan, valued guest… welcome.”

…then she bowed, murmuring her greeting. 

And, breathe, he thought, bowing alongside Kyoko. They were in.

*

If her initial meeting with the lady of the house was tense, however, Kyoko looked genuinely pleased to see the rest of the staff. No sooner had they been shown to their suite that she changed her clothes and went out again, declaring that she couldn’t rest until she said hello to every maid, cook, and cleaner in the place. 

“Go ahead without me,” Kuon said. “I’ll just… freshen up.”

She leaned against the door. “You know,” she said, “there’s no privacy in this place. We have to stay in our separate rooms.”

“Good thing we know places where we can hide,” he said. “Go. Say hello to people. I can amuse myself.”

Kyoko smiled again, a look so warm he melted a little. And she had the gall to call him Emperor of the Night. But before he could turn on the dazzle himself, she was gone again - no doubt riding the rush of having lasted through the day. He waited to see if she would return, and then got to his feet and wandered into the hallway.

The family rooms were toward the back of the building, facing the forest, he remembered Kyoko telling him once. That’s how I could slip in and out as a child. I would not have been able to do this as easily if the layout was different.

Kuon paused, studying the signage. He wasn’t about to go outside… not just yet, anyway. But he had someone he had to speak to. Two someones, if he could help it. 

“Ah, valued guest.” Setsuie seemed to emerge from the shadows, although as far as he knew, she’d been following him since he left the suite. “Are you looking for the baths, perhaps?”

“I was actually hoping to have a word with you,” Kuon said. “And your husband, if he’s willing.”

*

Hundreds of miles way, Fuwa Sho was taken with a sudden bout of sneezing. A significant inconvenience - especially since he was about to go onstage.

*

“Hizuri-san, this is rather unusual,” Setsuie remarked, as both she and her husband sat across from Kuon.

Night had fallen. The maids were lighting lanterns in the guest areas, but the Fuwa’s own family porch was shrouded in darkness. They could barely see his face - a disconcerting experience - but neither of them wanted to be the one to bring a torch. As if the very act would signify capitulation.

Capitulation to what? They did not know. But both of Shotarou’s parents felt suddenly like they were under siege.

“Forgive me for not waiting until the morning,” Kuon said. “If I had my way, I would have come to see you sooner. Indeed… I would have liked to bring my parents as well.”

“Why didn’t you?” Fuwa Ryotarou asked. 

“Health problems. As you yourself might understand.”

Silence fell. Setsuie shifted in her seat.

“Hizuri-san,” she said, at length. “We appreciate your… eccentricity is what makes you popular. I think what my husband is saying is…”

“Why bother coming here in the first place?” Ryotarou interrupted. “You clearly have no regard for tradition… or common decency, for that matter. Why the pretense?”

Kuon stood still. Then, slowly, he reached across the table and lit the candle standing in the middle. His expression was… not hostile, per se. But guarded. It reminded Setsuie of Katsuki in Dark Moon, if Tsuruga Ren was American… and a hundred times scarier. 

“I apologize in advance if I seem rude,” he said. “My Japanese still needs work - I come off more blunt than I intend to be, sometimes. I suppose you think I have no regard for tradition because of the news coverage of my relationship with Kyoko.”

“What else could we mean?” Ryotarou bristled. “The clothes you made her wear, the things you made her say…”

“Surely you know that Kyoko is an actress. Her success relies on her ability to turn into different characters.”

“Does her success also rely on those shameless displays she put on with you? Or was that all for the cameras?”

Kuon smiled. The temperature seemed to drop by several degrees. “Kyoko and I have known each other for a lot longer than you think. She is the person I love the most. The person whose opinion I respect above all else’s. The only thing shameful about what you saw was the caption that the media put on it.” He paused, then added, “The reason I’m here right now is the same reason I am with her in the first place. Your approval means something to her - if I have to grovel in order to obtain it, I will.”

Setsuie bit the inside of her mouth, to stop herself from screaming. She knew from dealing with customers how to handle most situations. This however… this was testing her poker face.

In the end, Ryotarou was the one to ask what Kuon meant by all of this. 

“Despite all that’s happened,” the American said, looking pointedly between the two of them, “Kyoko looks up to you as her guardians. She loved you enough to come to your aid, even if it meant her work schedule was turned on its head. She didn’t confront you when she realized you’d lied to her…”

“How dare you!” Setsuie shrieked. “She was but a child when she came here! What do you suggest we could have done? Handed over the money to her directly? Let her buy whatever inanity she wanted?”

“Fuwa-san, please sit down.”

“I will not! How dare you come into my home and… and…”

“Setsuie,” Ryotarou said. “Sit.”

“And you! You old fool, if you had your way, Kyoko wouldn’t have left the kitchen! I was the one who taught her about running this place, who gave her any kinds of useful skills! Is this how you repay me? With lies and… and accusations?”

“He’s not accusing us of anything,” Ryotarou said. “Sit down, or leave the room.”

She stared between the two men… then, unable to come up with any reply, she turned and stomped out of the room. 

If she was lucky, she would find someone to yell at in the kitchens.

*

Kuon breathed a little sigh of relief, before turning to the older man. “I’m sorry I upset her.”

“No, you’re not,” Ryotarou replied, shaking his head. “But I can’t blame you for testing her.”

They stared at each other across the table for a while. 

“We didn’t always do right by Kyoko, did we?” 

Kuon didn’t reply.

Sho’s father sighed. “We tried our best. Setsuie… whatever you may think, we didn’t set out with some sort of malicious plan. We could see she had a regard for our son… and he could never do better than Kyoko, Kami knows. We never imagined he would run away to Tokyo, but we were glad he took her with him. We thought… surely she would keep him in line.”

“From what I can tell, she did her best,” Kuon said, barely keeping his voice civil. “But did Sho?”

The older Fuwa bowed his head. “We gave him good guidance. We hoped… well… I did, anyway, that he would do the right thing. Instead, he drove Kyoko-chan away. I can see that now.”

And straight into my arms, Ren thought.

But that wasn’t as bad as the man thought. Not really.

“I don’t want to stifle Kyoko,” he said. “I will never hold her back. To me, she is precious no matter how well she does.” Or how poorly. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Ryotarou asked, sounding exhausted.

Kuon paused. Then he gave his best stupid American shrug. “Like I said - Kyoko cares for your approval. She has done nothing wrong, no matter what the papers say about our relationship. If I’m the one who brings her down in her regard, then you must let me be the one to earn it back.”

Ryotarou was silent for a long time. Then he said, “Save it. Nothing would bring Kyoko down in my regard. Not even you.”

*

Later that night, Kyoko walked through the ryoken, feeling - for the first time in ages - like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. 

The news coverage was focused on something else - another celebrity drama, another big scandal. Her relationship had successfully been deemed boring… and she wouldn’t have it any other way. Even Setsuie had been civil when she’d seen her in private - and she was expecting vitriol and fury. The worst that had happened all day was walking through that crowd of reporters in the morning. And Kuon had been there for her. 

Kuon…

There were so many things she wanted to say to him. If only they could have a moment to themselves - without the fear of being caught, without cameras and microphones tuned into everything they said.

She entered their suite, looked at the empty space, and, just as quickly, she turned around. Through the corridors, and out the door, past the guest rooms and the family area. Out into the open. Out into the forest.

Good thing we know a place where we can hide.

Could she find it? Would she find it? In the dark, after so many years…

…but her feet knew the way. During the night, as well as during the day. She always knew the way.

The moon shone through the trees, illuminating the rock pool with an eerie light. Another time, it would have been scary. Not now, though.

He stood on one of the highest rocks, staring in her direction. His hair looked almost black from where she stood, but his eyes were still that bright, unmistakable blue. Not Ren. Not really Corn. Someone else. Someone grown up.

“There you are,” she said, crossing her arms. “Don’t you know it’s rude to hide?”

He grinned. Then, without so much as a run-up, he jumped off the rocks, getting himself airborne. 

Her breath caught. Even if she knew it was an illusion - more skill than magic - she couldn’t help but admire him. 

This man… almost like a creature from another world… and he’d come to her, when she’d called for him. 

He landed in the water, only slightly skidding on his finish. He turned, as she ran across the pool, sending water droplets flying around them both as she jumped in his arms. 

Tomorrow, they’d face the world again. Fight a different battle… or the same one. They’d play games and roles, and weave the narrative that their audiences wanted to see.

But this moment was theirs alone.

And with nothing but the moon as their witness, they sank to the ground. And dreamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi.
> 
> I don't live in the USA. I don't have much of a platform. I'm not able to attend any marches.
> 
> But I want to use whatever platform I have to spread information and help. I have listed a few links and organisations here and at some of my other fics. If my work gives you pleasure, please donate. Sign petitions. Call your elected representatives, if you are in the USA. Keep yourselves informed and alert if you aren't.
> 
> Please. Thank you.
> 
> Organizations, Petitions & Go Fund Me:  
(these links come from Bailey Sarians latest video, she had great links so I'll use the same, go check out her video right here: https://youtu.be/iig8BEP-sOw )  
Color Of Change - https://colorofchange.org/  
Movement For Black Lives - https://m4bl.org/  
NAACP - https://www.naacpldf.org/  
Undocublack -https://undocublack.org/  
Petition for George Floyd - https://www.change.org/p/mayor-jacob-frey-justice-for-george-floyd?utm_source=brand_us&utm_medium=media  
Minnesota Freedom Fun - https://minnesotafreedomfund.org/  
Reclaim The Block - https://secure.everyaction.com/zae4prEeKESHBy0MKXTIcQ2  
Go Fund Me For George Floyd Family - https://www.gofundme.com/f/georgefloyd


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